To Catch a Killer
by Epicocity
Summary: AU. When Head Detective Roy Mustang met Forensics Specialist Edward Elric his first thought was that the boy was too young for the profession. But when a police department conspiracy appears he realizes: trust few or trust no one. Edwin, Royai.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter of TO CATCH A KILLER. I worked very hard on this chapter so I hope you enjoy it.**

**Author: Epicocity**

**Rating: T for Language, Blood, Some Disturbing Images, and Innuendo**

**Pairings: Edwin, Royai, AlMei, Ling/Lan Fan, HavBec, Lust/Havoc, and others**

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><p><strong>TO CATCH A KILLER<strong>

**A Fullmetal Alchemist AU Fan Fiction**

Chapter 1

"Not a pretty thing, boss," the man said, shifting his cigarette from the left side of his mouth to his right. Roy Mustang ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his narrow eyes flitting down to the chopped and mangled body near his feet. "Guess not even suburban streets are safe at night…"

"Why can't the killers come out during the day?" Mustang quipped agitatedly. "I lose enough sleep with the late hours…I don't need to lose more."

"Hey, you're head detective, we have to call you in on cases like this," his companion said.

"Shut it, Havoc!" Mustang said with venom. His hand slipped into his coat pocket and pulled out a lighter, the symbol of flame etched on it. As if a nervous tick, he clicked the lighter on and off three times.

"Hey, boss, mind giving me a light?" Havoc asked and Mustang's eyes narrowed in his direction. His arm moved quickly as the closed lighter was flung violently at Havoc's head.

"I told you: no smoking at a crime scene!"

"Don't take it out on Havoc, sir," came a more feminine voice. Mustang straightened his back as he stared at his partner who looked just as professional now as ever, even if it was three in the morning. Part of him was impressed. The other part, which was far more prominent in his sleep-deprived state, was exasperated that she couldn't let down her barrier for even a moment. "Where's Breda?"

"Hey, he lives over in New Optain; you can't expect him to drive over to Liore at three in the morning," Havoc said with a smirk as he bent down to pick up Mustang's lighter. For a moment he considered lighting his cigarette, but after looking the object over, he tossed it back. "Here's your lighter, chief."

"Chief, huh?" Mustang breathed, catching the lighter and producing its fire without a hitch. Neither of his two companions said a word as he continued to stare into the flame. Around them, people moved around, closing off the area and taking pictures, but Roy seemed oblivious to it all. He could faintly hear Hawkeye, his ever professional partner, and Havoc in the background.

"He seems kind of grumpy today," Havoc said quietly.

"It's _that_ day," Hawkeye responded in just as quiet of a voice and Havoc made a noise of recognition. "It's been two years to the day. Why today…?" Mustang snapped the lighter shut.

"What about Armstrong and Feury?" he snapped and his two subordinates looked at him, Havoc sniggering at the question.

"You wanna deal with an over-emotional muscle man this early in the morning? I didn't call them," he answered. Mustang rubbed his eyes with some sense of frustration and surveyed the scene. Thankfully, it was so early in the morning that no one was out on the streets of Liore. To that point, the area around the body was cordoned off by yellow tape, the two sergeants that were the first to be called to the scene standing idly by.

"Hey, wait a minute…Where the hell is my Forensics team?" Mustang shouted, but paused as he felt Hawkeye's hand on his shoulder.

"They're not coming, sir," she began, but plowed on when Mustang looked ready to go into shock, "If you had done your paperwork, you'd know that Forensics is currently swamped. They couldn't send anyone out to Liore. It shouldn't last for long though, they're getting someone new in today. You have a meeting with him at eight thirty."

"I heard the guy's pretty good," Havoc said with a yawn and Mustang glared at him. "Word in the department has it that this guy caught the Slicer Brothers within two weeks of getting to Central. He was there for six months."

"Damn it, Havoc, I don't care what he did! He's not a detective and he's not here now!" Mustang yelled.

"Sir…" Hawkeye said sternly, yet with a soothing undertone. Roy took a deep breath and relaxed. He turned his head toward Riza and smiled softly.

"Why are you always the better part of me, detective?" he asked softly and Riza chuckled slightly under her breath.

"I don't know, sir." The sound of snickering was heard and the both of them turned to Havoc, Hawkeye with arched eyebrows, Mustang's in a stern glare.

"Aw, look at that, how sweet," Havoc laughed out and Mustang turned away from the man, "accidentally" hitting him as he strode over to the body.

"You shouldn't antagonize him, _Jacqueline_," Hawkeye said with a smirk and it was Havoc's turn to glare.

"That was _one_ time! I was drunk!" Havoc protested but Hawkeye just turned away with a smile on her face. "Man, why can't the others be here…?"

"Sergeant!" Mustang boomed and Havoc looked at his boss a minute before turning to see two relatively rookie cops approaching. "You were the first to respond to the scene, were you not?"

"Yes, sir," the black haired woman responded. Mustang gazed at her in expectation and she cleared her throat. "Sergeant Maria Ross and Denny Brosh. We were on our rounds through Liore when we heard that woman over there, a Miss Rose Thomas, screaming. We went to examine the scene and we found the body. Brosh took the young lady away from the body as I called it in and closed the area off."

"Good work, sergeant," Mustang complimented crisply. "Has CSU made any examinations on the matter?" Mustang knew that the forthcoming answer was not going to be one that was pleasant to his ears, but he had to ask anyway. After all, in their line of work, any kind of information was useful information. Maria Ross shook her head.

"As of yet, they've been unable to make any real conclusions; without Forensics here…" Mustang emitted a low sigh that sounded more like a growl and he couldn't help but notice the sergeant stand back a bit. It was no doubt she had heard the rumors that circulated around the East City Police Department; she most likely thought the infamous Mustang temper was about to rear its ugly head. The thought of it made Roy want to chuckle, if he wasn't already so pissed. After all, on any normal day (if it was indeed day, and not this godforsaken hour) Mustang was calm, cool, and collected, if not barking orders to get investigations done right.

"All right…" he murmured under his breath. "Havoc!"

"Sir?" came the blonde's voice from a small distance away. Mustang turned his head to see Havoc stepping away from the coroner's van that had just arrived. It looked as though only one person was in the van, and to Mustang's chagrin it was _not_ the coroner himself. Havoc quickly stepped up next to him, shifting his still unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"Rope this alleyway off completely and put a twenty-four hour guard on the scene until I can get Forensics down here to check it out," Mustang said and Havoc nodded, considering his words for a moment.

"And the body?"

"It's a bloody mess; get it out of here. But don't disturb the scene, understand?" Mustang felt that usual exhilaration as Havoc moved off to follow his orders. This was truly his element: issuing orders that were effective, made sense, and, most important, got the job done. "Oh, and Havoc, I don't want some silly coroner's assistant examining it, with the state it's in. Make sure it gets to Knox for a proper autopsy."

"You got it, boss," Havoc said with a nod and he moved off to do what needed to be done. Mustang smiled slightly; Havoc might have been an annoyance once in a while but he did his job well. Turning away from the body, knowing that Havoc would see it taken care of, he instead shifted his gaze to the young woman who sat sobbing while a younger looking, blonde-haired man tried to console her.

"Should I assume we're going to question the witness?" Hawkeye asked from behind him and Mustang wondered how she had stayed so silent. However, the point was moot and he just gave a rough nod of his head as he walked over to the woman. She had long brown hair with part of it dyed pink, a strange combination in Mustang's opinion.

"Thank you, Sergeant Brosh, we'll take it from here," Mustang said to the man. He quickly stepped away to allow room for both Mustang and Hawkeye to look at the witness. "You are Miss Rose Thomas, is that correct?"

"Y-yes…" she hiccupped, looking up with shimmering eyes at the two detectives who were bathed in the faint glow from the street lights outside the alleyway.

"And you found the body?" She gave a faint and meek nod. "Mind telling me what you were doing out on the streets at one in the morning?"

"I…uh, I work for Mayor Cornello," Rose answered and Mustang closed his eyes but refrained from commenting, "and we…we have a big meeting tomorrow so I had to work very late in order to finish up all the paperwork I needed for tomorrow." Hawkeye cleared her throat rather loudly and Mustang scowled at her insinuation.

"What is your…relation to Mayor Cornello?" Hawkeye asked before he had the chance to speak again. Rose swallowed loudly and attempted to steady her breathing before answering.

"I'm…I'm his secretary," she answered firmly and Mustang could tell she was trying to lock her feelings deep inside herself. Mustang considered her words before reluctantly stepping to the side in order to allow her a view of the body again.

"And did you know the victim, ma'am?" Mustang asked and Rose measured things for a moment before answering.

"S-somewhat…" she responded. Mustang nodded, as if urging her to continue. "He and I both worked at City Hall, I guess. He'd talk to me every day, bring me coffee. And…and just the other day he asked me out." She couldn't control her sobs and the waterworks started flowing again.

"Thank you for your time," Mustang quipped before turning away. He registered Hawkeye soothing the girl and ordering Brosh to escort the young woman home. Havoc hopped out of the coroner's vehicle as the doors slammed shut and the vehicle drove away. Havoc shook his head in disgust, holding out a bloody wallet.

"Body was chopped up something fierce, but we were able to rescue the wallet," Havoc told him with a grim look, "though I don't think you'll like what you find."

"Why, Havoc, I'm already feeling Christmas Day anticipation in opening this wallet," Mustang told him sarcastically as he flipped open the wallet.

"Cain Leto, son to Mayor Cornello Leto, and Liore's city DA."

"Shit," Mustang cursed, "we're going to get roasted for this one if we don't solve it quickly. Make sure this doesn't get leaked to the press, you hear?"

"I don't want to invite this shitstorm on us any more than you do, Mustang, but we can't keep it quiet forever," Havoc told him with a grimace.

"I know that. So, I want all hands on deck for this one. Make sure everyone is in the conference room as early as we can be tomorrow. And I don't want a single word of this to be breathed to the rest of Cornello's staff, until we have all the facts we can gather from this." Mustang sighed again before lightly kicking a nearby dumpster. "This day just keeps getting better and better…" Mustang once again dragged out his lighter and began clicking it on and off furiously as he strode from the crime scene. He knew his job there was done: they were short-staffed, with poor lighting and exhausted to boot. There was no way they would be able to make any conclusions at this time. Mustang exited the alleyway and strode to his car. As he put his key into the ignition, he decided his best option would be to go back to the station and finish some paperwork; it wasn't like he would get any sleep anyway what with the two hour drive back to East City and an early meeting with his team. With another growl, he put the car into drive and began on his way to the station.

The sun was cresting over the tops of the city's skyscrapers when he arrived at the station. A few of the night shift were still on duty and he greeted all of them as he went to his desk and attempted to finish his paperwork. The first thing he did see was the note from the Chief stating that he had that meeting with the new Forensics specialist. Beyond that, he wasn't exactly sure how successful he was on the matter since the next thing he remembered was being shaken awake as a voice called to him. Mustang felt himself wave his arm as if to brush the voice away, but the voice didn't seem to be deterred in the slightest. Roy opened his eye a crack and felt light stream in.

"What, did you actually attempt to do paperwork?" came Havoc's cheery, if slightly sleep-deprived voice.

"Oh, shut it, Havoc," Mustang snapped as he righted himself in his chair. After a glance at his disturbed desk and the photo that was right in front of him, he concluded that he must have fallen asleep. _Although_, he commented to himself, _I still feel like a piece of crap_. He rubbed his eyes as he stood up and heard the TV blaring in the background, disturbing his still sleep-deprived brain.

"…resident Yao of Xing and his first lady as well as Crown Prince Claudio of Aerugo have agreed to meet in Amestris in two weeks time to discuss a peace treaty. President Dante has made clear her current stance on this issue."

"In these troubled times," came the voice of Amestris' president from the television, picking up where the news anchor had left off, "it is important to continue ensuring the peace and stability of our nation. To this-"

"Will somebody turn that racket off?" Mustang yelled loudly and noise from it seemed to cease. Mustang heard Havoc sigh but paid little attention to his grievances.

"Everyone, look out! The boss is in a bad mood today!" Havoc jeered and Mustang slapped him on the back of the head.

"Can it, and get in the conference room. I'm getting some coffee." Havoc muttered something about that putting him in a worse mood, but once again the head detective ignored it as he entered into the vending hall where both the vending machines and coffee machine stood. Mustang tousled his black hair as he went over to the coffee machine where a young man stood banging the piece of equipment.

"Work! Damn it!" he yelled angrily.

"Coffee machine giving you issues?" Roy chortled and the young man turned to him. The first thing that struck Roy was his unnaturally colored golden eyes (which were slightly creepy, if he were to be honest). Other than that, he seemed every bit a usual officer of the law, albeit not dressed like one. "You don't look familiar. I would guess first day, if you don't know about our absolutely crappy coffee machine."

"Yeah, well, I should have my wife take a look at it. She could make it work better than new," the golden-haired man said with a scowl. Roy thought he looked a little young to be married; after all, he was already in his thirties and had as much chance of a steady relationship as Havoc had of becoming police commissioner. The man turned away, the red coat he was wearing swaying slightly and he banged on the machine one more time, causing the coffee to finally come out. "Well, see ya…"

"Yeah, see you around the station, shorty," Mustang chuckled as the man began to move off. In his peripheral vision, Mustang noticed the young man stiffen for a moment at his words before he seemed to regain his composure and move on. _Rookies these days…_Mustang thought with a shake of his head as he pressed buttons on the coffee machine. He did have to thank the young man for getting the coffee machine to actually work for him as seconds later he was striding towards the conference room with the world's worst-tasting coffee in his hand. As soon as he opened the doors to the conference room he noticed the clock on the wall reading 8:20 and sighed; he really had overslept. However, the next thing he transfixed his eyes upon were his partners in solving crime, or as they liked to call themselves, Team Mustang.

Riza Hawkeye sat there, dressed as professionally as ever, her hair cropped up behind her head as it always was. Just as she had been earlier that morning, she was dressed in a crisp blouse with a smart, navy blue blazer. As far as partners went, Mustang could ask for no better. Even before he became head detective, he and Riza had had a rather…special bond, one could say. The funny part was how she was always a step behind him. He had asked her why she had never tried to surpass him and always remained behind her, to which she answered: "I trust you to watch your own front, sir, so I stay behind to watch your back." He never questioned her on the matter again after that.

Sitting next to Hawkeye was good old Jean Havoc. Mustang and Havoc went back a ways, all the way back to his days at the police academy. Havoc came in to the academy the year that Mustang graduated and joined the force. In some ways, it could be said he was a mentor to the young man. However, ever since becoming a detective, Havoc hardly needed a mentor. He was as professional as they came, when he wasn't hitting on the women on the force. True, Jean Havoc could roll with the best of them, and probably teach them all a thing or two when it came to his investigative skills, but his one vice was his unnatural attraction to women. Not that it was a bad thing, but when the ratio of investigations to boobs came to be 20:80, Mustang had to wonder.

On the opposite side of the table was Mustang's other good friend and Havoc's longtime partner on the force, Heymans Breda. Breda was a relatively beefy man who had been nicknamed the Department's "Snack Machine", only because of how much food he could actually managed to shovel in. However, he was one of the most respected members in the department because he had proven his skill at catching bad guys in an area that some officers barely even passed. Breda was very skilled at deductive reasoning and was the only detective in the past decade or two to have scored a 100% on that portion of the detective's exam. That trait was as useful as they could come.

Seated next to Breda was a relatively new addition to the team: Kain Feury. Of course, thinking about their younger member's name reminded him only too sharply about the case they were about to talk about. To the initial viewer, Feury seemed a very strange member to Mustang's team. He had only recently passed his DET and become a detective so his knowledge of working in the field was at a near minimum. However, there were two reasons that Mustang was glad he had picked Feury to be part of the team. The first of these was that the man's knowledge of police technology (and indeed, technology in general) was off the charts. If you needed a computer hacked or an encrypted file broken down, he could do it in a flash. That made him more useful than about 50% of the detectives in the department in a heartbeat.

The second reason was a little more…loud.

"Oh, Roy Mustang! My heart feels so low that on this day we should have to endure both one murder and the anniver-"

"Not now, Armstrong." Mustang barked at him and the large man seemed to silence himself and retreat back to his seat on the other side of the table. Detective Alex Louis Armstrong; a good detective and an even louder friend. He was currently partnered with Feury and everyone on the team, and probably the force, knew how much torture Feury was being subjected to as a result of it. But Armstrong was a good man, with a good head on his shoulders. He was certainly over-emotional, but when push came to shove, his muscles got the job done when they weren't busy ripping off his shirt unexpectedly.

"You look like crap, boss, no offense," Breda commented with a grunt and Mustang rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on, but knew he needed to repress it in order to get through the day.

"None taken," Mustang answered him. "Anyway, what do we know?"

"Doctor Knox performed an autopsy earlier this morning, puts the time of death at around eleven in the evening last night," Feury answered him as Hawkeye pushed the case file towards him. Mustang paid little attention to it, instead focusing all his faculties on listening to Feury. "Coroner reports multiple lacerations all over the body, in some cases the skin and muscle tissue was no longer even attached to the bone."

"In other words, we're dealing with a sicko here," Havoc told him and Mustang motioned for them to move on with the briefing.

"Knox told the two of us," Armstrong told him, indicating himself and Feury, "that the victim was killed with slice to the throat and he believes that the other lacerations were actually done both prior to death and post-mortem."

"Do we have any other leads we can glean from the autopsy, or is that it?" Mustang asked with a glance at his team. Breda reached for the abandoned case file and flipped it open, pulling a sheet from its contents.

"I did some back research. Cain Leto was a very beloved DA who did his job well. Liore's not really a city of that much crime so it seemed completely unnatural that some random criminal would want to kill him and as you spoke to the soon-to-be girlfriend it's highly unlikely this was a crime of passion. The lacerations seem to indicate a planned and orchestrated murder, impersonal even. Whoever did kill him didn't know him," Breda told his boss and Mustang nodded, agreeing with the theory.

"So it's either a paid job or a whacko?" Mustang questioned and Breda made a noise of assent.

"Sounds like The Chopper, if you ask me," came a voice from behind Mustang and he whirled around in his chair to see who had intruded in the meeting. Behind him was the young man he had met at the coffee machine, currently leaning against the doorframe that Mustang realized he had accidentally left open.

"I'm sorry, this is a classified meeting, above your clearance level," Mustang said angrily and the man shrugged with a smirk on his face. Hawkeye quickly stood up and Mustang was ready to smirk himself. His partner was likely ready to throw the young man out. So, it came as a surprise to him when Hawkeye shook the man's hand.

"You must be Edward Elric, I expect," she said and the man nodded with a smile.

"So, you've heard of me?" he responded and Mustang cleared his throat in order to insert himself into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Right, Edward Elric, Forensics," the young man, Edward, said to him, holding out his hand. Mustang refused to take it. _This kid is my Forensics specialist_… "Okay, no need to be a jackass."

"Watch it, pipsqueak!"

"Who're you calling pipsqueak, bastard?" Mustang sprang out of his chair in a chance to retaliate when he saw Hawkeye's glare and backed off.

"Edward, I've been told, is a very skilled member of the Forensics department. Doctor Marcoh has assigned him to our cases for the time being," Hawkeye told them all in a stern voice.

"Wait a minute…so you're the guy that caught the Slicer Brothers?" Havoc demanded to know and Edward nodded with another smirk on his face. Havoc made a low whistle.

"You look really young, though," Feury observed.

"Twenty years old. But I thought we were here to solve a murder," Edward announced, quickly changing the subject back to the matter at hand. Hawkeye motioned for Edward to pull up a seat next to them and Roy returned to his own with a disgruntled growl. "Like I said, that sounds like The Chopper."

"What? Is that some kind of…?" Armstrong began, but couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

"Serial killer, yeah, from Central," Edward told them and Mustang resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. "He committed three murders in Central, including one of Chief Gamelan. It was a nasty business, he was never caught."

"You mean _you_ never caught him?" Mustang said as a sly remark.

"He disappeared," Edward reassured him. "No wonder, he probably moved out here to the East before we were able to lay hands on him. I was pretty damn close though."

"He's actually right boss," Breda said and Mustang suppressed a groan, "four cases prior to this were found in the police database with the same M.O. This Chopper guy is definitely our man."

"So, now it's just a matter of finding him," Mustang said in a low tone. "All right everyone, we've got work to do. Havoc, Breda, I want you to look into those Central cases. Call whatever officers were on the case there and gather as much information about this guy's methods as you can. Armstrong, Feury, make sure to visit Knox again and try to see what kind of weapon made those lacerations. Hawkeye and myself will take Mr. Elric here to Liore so he can examine the crime scene." There was a general voice of assent as everyone filed from the conference room.

"Shall I get the car started, sir?" Hawkeye asked and Mustang shook his head.

"No, let the whole department know that if Cornello calls I'm not answering any questions until tomorrow morning. Meet us at the car." Hawkeye nodded in assent and left the room. Edward stood up and stretched a bit, his black pant leg pulling up slightly. For a moment, Mustang thought he saw something that wasn't quite flesh underneath, but the spot he had seen was soon covered up.

"So, we going or what?" Edward asked and Mustang just strode from the room, leaving the Forensics specialist to trail behind. He couldn't believe that this kid was Forensics, and at only twenty! Mustang himself had only become Head Detective at the age of 27, which was unprecedented in the first place but it seemed like this generation was just becoming younger and younger. However, the kid's observations did match up with Breda's conclusions so he must have had something going for him. A few minutes later, he, Hawkeye and Edward were in the car and off to Liore. For the most part, the two hour drive was silent until they reached the city limits of Liore.

"So, Edward, I hear you spent the last six months in Central," Hawkeye commented and Mustang saw the young man nod from his rearview mirror.

"Yeah, I started at South City, and then I transferred to North where I made a name for myself, so they called me to Central. Then I requested to be transferred here to East," Edward answered her.

"Any particular reason you chose East?"

"My wife," Edward said quickly and Mustang could tell that Hawkeye couldn't figure out how to respond to that as well. Mustang put his eyes back to the road as they approached the scene of the crime.

"Fuck…" Mustang seethed under his breath, though it was clear Hawkeye had heard him as she glanced up. There was a small crowd gathered around the crime scene tape, and from the looks of it, standing there was none other than Mayor Cornello. Mustang parked the car and the three of them stepped out to greet him. "Mayor Cornello, what a surprise."

"Surprise? This is what you call a surprise!" Cornello said angrily, striding up to the young head detective. "My boy has just been murdered."

"I assure you, sir, we are doing everything in our power. We already have a suspect in mind and-"

"Not good enough!" Cornello roared. "I wonder, Head Detective Mustang, what would Commissioner Bradley do if he found out about this debacle?"

"Probably nothing, sir," Mustang answered coldly. "We just found the body last night. To have a suspect this early is a miracle. You may be a politician but you have to allow us to do our jobs." Cornello looked as if he was going to blow a gasket.

"Sir, with all due respect," Hawkeye began, looking the mayor straight in the eye, "we are working round the clock. We cannot go barging down any door we want. There is procedure and protocol we must follow. Once we have enough information we will post a BOLO on the suspect and hope for the best. But, rest assured, we will be using all our department resources to make sure the killer is brought to justice."

"Hmph. Well, you monkeys at the police department can at least talk well," Cornello grumbled and Hawkeye's glare sharpened, causing the mayor to step back a little.

"Understand Mayor Cornello, by getting in our way we can arrest you for obstructing justice. Now, you can either leave us to our jobs, or allow a killer to roam free." Cornello seemed to deliberate his next action for a moment before giving a curt nod.

"Fine. I'll leave you to it then, but," Cornello said and the two detectives' attentions were riveted upon his words, "if you fail to catch this killer, I'll have your jobs."

"Unlikely, sometimes you can't even find the killer, and the commissioner knows that," Hawkeye responded and Mustang felt a shiver go down his spine. Cornello's face seemed to scrunch up in disgust before he whipped around and led himself and his entourage away from the scene.

"Well, that went well," Mustang replied before looking around. "Where's Elric?"

"Why don't you come over here and see?" came Edward's voice from the alleyway. Mustang and Hawkeye walked over to the alleyway and ducked under the crime scene tape. "This is how you found the scene, right, minus the dead body?"

"I ordered them to leave it untouched," Mustang responded, wondering where the blonde-haired boy wonder was going with this.

"Where's all the blood?" Edward observed and Mustang quirked an eyebrow at him. "If he was killed here, where's all the blood? There's not nearly enough here for all the cuts that were made"

"So, he wasn't killed here then. Makes sense," Mustang agreed. "Time of death was put at eleven. How could he not be discovered until one if he was killed in a relatively open alleyway? He was dumped here, wasn't he?"

"That _is_ The Chopper's style. He chops them up elsewhere before dumping the body on a street." Edward bent down and examined the ground around the area. "Transmission fluid…and a strange fiber."

"That's a start, isn't it?" Hawkeye remarked and Edward laughed.

"More than a start," he replied, "I can get this down to the crime lab and have Marcoh analyze it by tomorrow. Once we know that, we look for a credit card or a cash serialization for whoever paid for whatever outfit this fiber came from and for a transmission check."

"Likely a truck," Mustang told them and both looked at him. "I can smell the gasoline in the air now that the stench of the dead body is gone, and it's definitely too potent to be from a car. Not bad, Elric. If we cross reference we should at least get a tail on our killer."

"I'll call the station and have them put a BOLO out for The Chopper, then?" Hawkeye asked, but it seemed that she anticipated Mustang's response before he even gave it. "Or we can wait…see what the others have got back at the station." Mustang nodded and the three quickly left the scene, telling the guards there that they were done and were needed no longer.

It was late afternoon when they arrived back at the police station in East City. There were less people there than had been in the morning time. Feury and Armstrong were nowhere to be seen but Havoc was at his desk, clicking around on his computer. Edward left them at the entrance to the station in order to head down to Forensics and the Crime Lab. Meanwhile, Mustang and his ever industrious partner approached Havoc.

"Miss Amestris Season 4, huh? I see you're using your time wisely, Havoc," Mustang cracked at him with a smirk.

"Boss, didn't know you got back," Havoc said with a sheepish grin. "Me and Breda finished our work up. I know this is a big issue but-"

"What've you got for me, Havoc?"

"Mmm, right," Havoc said, facing back towards the computer, "Breda and I hit a dead end with the Central side of things once we found out that the Chopper, apparently, uses a refrigeration truck to carry his victims. This was because a witness came forward after the third murder to say she had seen a refrigeration truck by the scene of the crime. The Chopper was gone after that. We deduced that the killer must kill them elsewhere and then drop the bodies where the police find them using a refrigeration truck."

"That matches with what we found as well," Hawkeye assented, "I'll go and start looking for refrigeration trucks in the area with transmission issues."

"What about Feury and Armstrong?" Mustang asked.

"No idea. They left saying they were following a lead."

"All right. Well, give me a call when they get their answers. I need to go home and sleep." Havoc gave him a quick confirmation of his orders before he strode away. He was barely thinking as he slipped into his car and drove back to his apartment. He received a call an hour later saying that Armstrong and Feury had discovered the weapon used to kill Cain Leto was a butcher knife. With all the information swimming in his head, Mustang turned his cell off and opened his liquor cabinet, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a rather large glass.

_You wanna be chief one day, right?_

Roy poured himself a heavy glass of the whiskey and took a big gulp.

_Why don't I push you up to the top? I know, I know; you already got someone watching your back, but sometimes you need a push forward, right?_

Roy's deluded gaze shifted over to his house phone, sitting on the counter next to him.

_Hey Mustang, take this. It might help whenever you get agitated._

With fumbling fingers, Roy grabbed the phone and started dialing the number.

_You keep moving up like this you'll get lots of enemies. So why don't you just ask Hawkeye out and get yourself a wife?_

"Hello, this is Elicia!" cried a happy and young voice over the phone. Roy's voice got choked in his throat and he said nothing.

"Elicia, give the phone to mommy," said a quieter voice, a sadder voice. "Hello." Roy still couldn't find it in him to respond. The rest of his apartment was dark now, the sun having set completely. "Roy, is that you? Roy?"

"I'm sorry," he whispered, before putting the phone back on its register and drowning himself in whiskey.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: As I said before, this is the first chapter of my Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction. I have the major plot of this actually planned out, and I hope people enjoy it. And how do we show our enjoyment? Through reviews of course. Now, I'm only posting this now to test the waters as it were and see what kind of response I get. I won't post the second chapter for some time as I must finish my Pokemon fan fiction first but at least you'll have an idea (and do note I only have four chapters left of my other fan fiction so...not too long). Once I finish that story, my efforts will be fully focused on this. So, please Review and let me know what you think, and always remember: Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**In here I present to you the other side of this story and let you know the most important players in this drama.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters.**

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><p><span>Chapter 2<span>

Edward Elric woke with a great yawn and a stretch. It had been a long night the previous evening and in some way he wasn't exactly ready to go back to work. He had inevitably hit a dead end without the info on the fiber he had found, which meant that he was going to probably work overtime today if there was any shot at them running down on The Chopper. That fact alone made him want to stay in bed. His hand went to his left side but found nothing there. Turning over, a bright ray of sun hit his eyes and he groaned. After adjusting to the sun coming in the window, Ed looked to the alarm clock on the side of the bed. It wasn't too late, but unless he moved it there was no chance to getting in to work on time. That was something he just couldn't allow. With another yawn, Ed flipped himself out of bed and walked over to the closet, getting changed before trudging his way downstairs.

The smells of something delicious wafted to his nose from the kitchen and a light smile graced his face as he finished buttoning up his shirt. As he got closer to the kitchen he heard the sizzling of the frying pan and knew that, at the very least, he wouldn't have to scrounge up breakfast. A quick peak into the kitchen saw his wife standing over the stove, her back turned to him. After a small grin at her backside, he turned away towards the living room, turning on the TV for a moment to see if there was any news. Watching the screen for a moment, the bulletin on the bottom of the screen stated that they were looking for the serial killer nicknamed "The Chopper" but other than that, there was nothing of note. With a small frown he turned away and entered the kitchen.

"Smells good. What is it?" Ed asked, tentatively sniffing the air to draw in all of the alluring smell.

"Pancakes. I've been up making them for a while," his wife responded, turning around to flash her bright smile on him.

"Made with water, right?"

"No, Ed, I made them with milk," she responded darkly and Ed quirked an eyebrow in her direction. "Of course I made them with water, dummy." To emphasize her point she slammed a plate of them right in front of Ed as he sat at the table. Ed held his hands up in defense but said nothing on the subject.

"Just thought I'd ask," he told her as he grabbed a fork and knife and dug in. His wife sat down at the chair opposite him, letting her blonde hair fall down.

"Honestly, Ed, milk makes them taste a lot better, and they'd give you more energy for the day."

"Fanks but no fanks. I'm good."

"Don't be a pig. Just eat your food." He knew better than to argue with her and continued to eat in hastened silence. It was a comfortable silence that Ed had gotten used to over the mornings with his wife. "You should probably have a check-up soon."

"Oh?" Ed remarked, spearing a pancake with his fork, "Why does that sound like it's just an excuse to get into my pants?"

"I think I've already been there," she replied with a smirk, causing Ed's face to flush, although he laughed loudly enough to cover it up. With a quick, and slightly agitated, movement he grabbed the last piece of his breakfast and finished it off, wiping his mouth afterwards.

"Thanks, Winry, you're the best," Ed told her as he stood up to take his dish to the sink. Winry gave him a solemn nod, though there seemed to be something off about it. Ed pushed the thought from his mind as he dumped his plate. Winry cleared her throat behind him.

"Hey, Ed, can we talk?" she asked him and Ed could only look at her curiously.

"How about when I get home from work? I'm gonna be late if I don't move it." He added a laugh to the end of his statement and saw Winry's shoulders sag following it. The laugh faded away and he walked over to Winry, concerned. "Hey, if you need to talk now, I'm sure my boss'll understand."

"No, no, it's all right, Ed. Besides, we should talk when you've got time and I've got to get the shop open. We'll talk later." She smiled at him before reaching up and giving him a peck on the cheek. "Get going."

With a roll of his eyes at his wife's pushiness, Ed turned away and grabbed his bag near the door, heading into the garage. As usual the garage was cluttered with tools of every kind, though the path to his car was gratefully clear. Settling into his car, he strapped himself in and started with his usual daily routine. As he backed out, his eyes found his wife's worktable and he frowned. Something was concerning Winry, and for all of Ed's self-proclaimed brainpower, he couldn't put his finger down on it. All things considered however, he hadn't been around much lately; only on the weekends. It was only after deciding that a commute to Central wasn't worth the strain it put on their marriage that Ed figured he'd ask for a transfer. He got lucky.

During Ed's six month tenure in Central, he had become known as one of the best Forensics specialists on the force, next only to Basque Gran, a man who Ed felt he had learned plenty from. This fame, as he often liked to think of it, had earned him a place in the eyes of Commissioner Bradley. And Bradley was a smart man, albeit intimidating, and knew how to handle his people. He was the kind of leader that knew how to keep his subordinates working to the best of their abilities. When Ed submitted his form for transfer, it caught Bradley's eyes and he spoke to the young Forensics specialist himself. Ed might've felt like he was about to fall over but the Commissioner was jovial and approved easily saying, "East could use a good man like you, Elric. Say hello to your lovely wife for me." And that was that.

Thinking on his reasons for transfer, his thoughts shifted back on to his lovely wife and an unusual smile lit up his face. Winry truly was one of the greatest things in his life. It helped, of course, that he had known the young woman since they were old enough to walk. But Winry had been there through the hardest times of his life. She had helped comfort him when his mother died and, with a rush of pride, had helped him stand again. Granted, their stubborn personalities made the two of them like mismatched magnets, oftentimes pushing away but pulling towards each other just enough. Really their relationship started changing when Ed had turned fifteen and made plans to go to college. He promised Winry to keep in contact and they then spent the longest time apart from each other in their entire lives. By sixteen, they'd had enough. Ed swallowed his pride, asking her on a proper date. Two years later they married in their home town of Resembool when Ed got his job down at South PD. Winry had spent a year down there before moving back. That was when the fights started, usually ending with Winry hitting Ed over the head with a wrench.

Thankfully, Winry's grandmother intervened, told them they were both being stupid, and a plan was worked out for Ed's commute. He was lucky the "Ice Queen" of North PD understood (as long as he tripled his workload). Until a month ago, when Ed decided enough was enough and asked for the transfer. Scoffing to himself, he reasoned that might've been the reason he didn't know what was bothering her. But then again, he wasn't going to waste his work hours worrying over a woman that could clearly take care of herself in his absence. Feeling satisfied with his conclusions, he pulled into the police department lot and prepared himself for work, feeling surprised that he had driven the full half hour without batting an eye.

Another yawn escaped him as he locked his car down and proceeded into the police department, flashing his badge to the officer at the entrance. With a grimace he passed the coffee machine and mentally berated himself for not telling Winry about it. As he went down the steps to the lab he cast his glance back and saw the same dark haired detective he had met the day previously; Roy Mustang, if he remembered correctly. Personally, he wasn't sure what to think of the man, and didn't really care about it as the detective vanished from sight and Ed entered the lab.

"Hey guys, I'm here!" Ed called out to the other three occupants of the lab. The oldest of them raised a quick hand in greeting but said nothing, instead focusing on his work. The other two acknowledged him with their voices.

"Hey Ed."

"Ponytail." Ed chuckled at that as he hung his jacket on the coat rack, grateful at the nickname actually. Only a few years ago, that very same nickname might've been "Shorty" or "Runt". Of course, if one had been referring to his hair, it probably would have just been "Braid". Either way, it didn't really matter to him as long as people weren't taking jabs at his height.

"Morning to you guys too, Heinkel, Darius," Ed responded. He didn't know any of them that well but the two younger men (when compared to their boss) were likeable enough and were probably one of the most skilled crime lab technicians Ed himself had met. With a small smile on his face, Ed turned to his desk only to be faced with a veritable deluge of papers. "Okay, I know that wasn't there yesterday."

"Sorry, Edward," spoke the last occupant of the room as he straightened up, mumbling something like "Damn this back".

"Doctor Marcoh, you put all this here?"

"I know, it seems a lot to ask, but we're swamped," the man, Doctor Marcoh, replied with an apologetic smile. Ed scowled at that as Heinkel put a hand on Ed's shoulder.

"That, and you're new."

"Good to know."

"Just think of it as a sort of hazing ritual, if you will."

"Darius, hazing rituals are for college fraternities, not workers at the East City Police Station."

"And…when has that changed the fun of it all? Besides, at your age, you should still be in college."

"But I'm not. I'm an expert in forensics science, not some dopey little kid who can't tell the difference between a BOLO and a polo."

"Oh, we know, Ed. Welcome to adult life," Heinkel told him and Ed grimaced but said nothing more. Both of them were right of course. At South Police Department his first month or two had seen him assaulted with piles of paper. In the end he realized there were two factors behind this: he was a rookie and Chief Archer was a dick. But East PD was different; Darius, Heinkel, and Marcoh all respected him immensely, otherwise they wouldn't have let him on The Chopper case. No, the difference was funding and staff.

It made Ed's life hell.

With a resigned sigh he dropped his bag at his desk and sat down. He glared menacingly at the paper in an attempt to threaten it into doing itself. A few minutes later, Darius had the kindness to admit it was an exercise in futility as the small lab team dispersed. Noting the memo on top of his desk(which he had written himself), Ed quickly crumpled it and went to the crime lab evidence lock up, drawing out a tray with the fiber he had picked up the day previously at the crime scene.

"Doctor Marcoh, I hate to ask it but did you get a chance to take a look at this fiber last night?" Ed shouted back to his boss. A quick response issued forth.

"No, I was busy working on other cases," Marcoh told him, following with a thoughtful pause, "But the lab's open if you need it." Ed thanked him and proceeded into the room that housed the lab equipment. Seeing that one of the two microscopes were open he made his way to it, sliding the fabric under the scope. Almost the second he focused the lens he began muttering, trying to make sense of what he was looking at.

"It's not fibers from jean fabric so I doubt it's from any kind of pants. No cotton, no polyester. Damn, this thing has none of the molecular properties found in normal pieces of clothing." Ed took the thing out and felt it in his hands. It was rough and almost uncomfortable to the touch. The only solid conclusion that the young forensics specialist could make was that it belonged to something that one would not wear on their skin, but more like a cape or a shawl.

"Burlap by the looks of it," Darius observed and, for a moment, Ed didn't even realize that the hulking man was talking to him. "That fabric looks like it's made of burlap."

"Who would be weird enough to wear burlap?" Darius shrugged as if to suggest the phrase "serial killers" but Ed had to agree with the man's observation. It _was_ burlap, and the lack of dirt suggested that it was new. Eagerly excited over the development, logic followed reason and the facts fell into place: a burlap cape purchased recently. Smirking, Ed once more put the fabric under the microscope. It was amazing how, no matter the number of times he did this, the simple fact was hat science solved a lot of cases. Knowing one simple fact allowed everything else to fall into place and map out a life. Like how there was a hair attached to it, thin and snipped. How said hair strand turned out to be synthetic, tying a connection between the two objects. And, most disturbingly, how there was a patch of blood on the fabric that Ed presumed was the victim's.

Pleased with his findings, he grabbed an evidence form, filling it out to state his findings. He practically bounced from the room, telling his co-workers he'd be back in a moment. As it was when he had left, the police station was buzzing with all manner of activity though not enough to stymie his progress. In no time at all, the golden haired man had reached the rows upon rows of detectives' desks and started searching for the charcoal-colored mop of hair. Not noticing it, he sighed heavily, intending to turn around and head straight back to the lab.

"Edward?" called the sudden voice and Ed noticed the older woman step out from behind her desk. Just as it was yesterday when they had met, the detective's hair was pulled up in the back and she looked more like she was ready to present to a board of directors at a corporation as opposed to a detective on the job.

"Oh, Detective Hawkeye," Ed responded, striding over to her.

"Riza's fine."

"Is Detective Mustang around?"

"No, he's following up on a lead from yesterday. I opted to stay behind and field some calls," Hawkeye reported to him with a scoff. "This thing's a political nightmare and I figure that I'm best equipped to handle it." Ed didn't think to ask why, simply shoving the paper with his findings towards her.

"Anyway, I analyzed that fabric we found at the scene yesterday and I found," Ed cleared his throat quickly, "that it's made of burlap and there was a piece of synthetic hair on it, brown."

"A costume?"

"Could be. Either way, narrowing down a field of suspects would probably be easiest if you looked at the purchase of the burlap first."

"An astute observation. I doubt a product like this is bought very often, if at all. This will help with cross-referencing. Roy's checking on that transmission lead so I'll let him know what to look into." Hawkeye pursed her lips in thought and Ed quirked an eyebrow, waiting to see if she would say anymore. "I have to admit, Edward, you're pretty good at this, it makes me wonder why you didn't go for detective."

"At my age? They'd never let me!" Ed asserted with a smirk. "But I'm fine with it, trust me. Forensics is definitely my field."

"It was just a comment. Ignore it," Riza told him with a small smile. "So, are you here at East to stay?"

"I hope so."

"Oh, right, your wife," she remarked, sitting back down at her desk and shuffling through her papers. "What does she do?"

"She's…uh…a mechanic in Resembool," Ed informed the professional detective and she nodded in understanding. Ed shuffled his feet uncomfortably, hoping he could get out of there as soon as possible.

"Well, she must be very skilled."

"The best." A pause filled the air. "Uh, can I-"

"Oh, I'm sorry for keeping you, Edward. I'm sure you have work to do. I'll let Roy know what you found, thank you."

"Yeah, see ya." An uncomfortable wave later, Ed was padding his way back to the lab and his gargantuan pile of paperwork. He groaned quietly as he settled himself at his desk and stared at the stack of papers. If he indulged the creative side of his brain he would believe he saw sparks crackling between himself and the paper. "All right, paperwork, give me your best shot!"

It did. The paperwork itself wasn't the problem either. In the two years he had been in this field he had done enough Forensics department paperwork to have it all ingrained in his head. No, it was the legwork that came with it. On top of confirming that the evidence was in lock up or had been sent to the courthouse, Ed had to make sure that the detectives or officers who had worked the cases signed the appropriate forms. Coupled with his lack of knowledge regarding the department's personnel, he spent most of the late morning and early afternoon running around trying to find people. He ended up getting frustrated and spent his lunch hour organizing them into categories pertaining to which detectives worked the case; and the few hours after that were spent getting them signed. This led to a few more uncomfortable encounters with Detective Hawkeye and a rather tension filled one with Head Detective Mustang. The result ended up being that Ed didn't get home until the sun had started to set with a sore in his hand, muttering about the "evils of dead trees".

"Winry, I'm home!" he announced with a slight snarl, dumping his things unceremoniously the second he stepped in. There was muffled conversation that seemed to come from the living room and Ed rubbed his eyes. Either dinner was already done or Winry had just gotten home if she was watching TV. "Man, you would not believe the day I had."

"Brother?" came a younger, albeit still deep, voice. Ed looked up to see a familiar blonde-haired man at the end of the hall. A wide grin split his face and Ed ran forward. The two of them quickly enveloped each other in a hug.

"Al, you're back in the country?" he exclaimed, drawing back sharply to take a look at his younger brother. Alphonse Elric was still the very image of youth, especially when compared to his brother. Truthfully, Alphonse was known as the more handsome of the brothers and his time in Xing had done him good, tanning him substantially. It made Ed somewhat jealous (until, of course, he remembered that he was already married). Upon close observation, people would even conclude that the two brothers were like night and day.

Ed was rash; Al was thoughtful.

Ed was muscular; Al was soft.

Ed got angry and often fought randomly with Winry; Al was the epitome of chivalry in a day where it was thought dead.

Ed was tall; Al was taller.

"Why didn't you let us know you were coming back?" Ed said with a thump to his brother's back, leading him to the living room again.

"I did," he contested, his face drawn and confused. "Didn't you get my letter?" Ed shook his head as they sat down on the couch before Winry stormed in, tossing the day's mail on the coffee table.

"We got it today, Al," she reprimanded sharply, causing the young man to flinch. "Honestly, if you want to tell us you're coming back home soon, don't send us a letter a week before from another country. Just send us an e-mail."

"Okay, okay!" Al exclaimed, his hands held up in defense. "By the way, where's Den? I didn't see him, though I only got here a few minutes ago." Ed and Winry frowned, glancing momentarily at each other.

"Den, uh, well, he was an old dog…" Winry began and Al's eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh…I see…and Granny?" Ed snorted loudly, causing Winry to roll her eyes.

"On that note, we have better news. About a year ago, Granny went on an extended vacation to Creta," Winry informed the younger Elric brother, "although Ed likes to refer to it as 'retirement' and I'm inclined to agree. Which, by the way, we got a post card from her." Ed took the postcard from his wife and immediately blanched upon the sight of Granny Pinako in a bikini.

"That is the worst form of torture, right there." Winry looked over it and seemed to be in agreement as moments later she deposited it in the trash. "So, Al, how long are you in the country for?"

"Here to stay, actually," Al responded with a gleaming smile. "I finished my research in Xing about a month ago. I'm just finishing up the writing of my dissertation and I'll defend it at the University a few months from now."

"Well, look at you Al!" Ed said emphatically, giving his brother a few light punches. "Who'd believe that the same boy who was stuck in a suit of armor for an hour and cried like a little girl would be getting his Ph. D?"

"That was a dare and you know it, Ed! You walked away and forgot I was there," Al fumed, causing Ed to mix his chortling with guffawing. "Besides, I lost in that dare anyway."

"What kind of dare was it?" Winry asked with a humorous detachment.

"Oh, it was nothing…just brother stuff, you know," Ed told her and she frowned at him.

"Fine! Don't tell me anything! I'm used to it and I suppose I should get started on dinner," Winry announced with a huff as she left the room. Al leaned inward and asked in a light whisper:

"So she doesn't know that the dare to stay in that suit of armor was made on the condition that I would marry her and the whole time I was stuck you were putting the moves on her?"

"No. And she never will." Both the brothers pulled away and surveyed each other for a moment. "You said you just got here?"

"Yeah, we arrived here late this morning and customs was a pain. Who knew Xingese medicine could be considered a 'biological weapon'?"

"The whole country's in a tizzy with those peace talks coming up. They don't want anyone smuggling anything they shou-wait, 'we'?"

"My research team and I. Two of them are Amestrians and went home to their families, but my main assistant and I had to find a hotel to stay at."

"Stupid brother!" Ed remonstrated and Al looked at him in shock. "You're family; you don't need a hotel."

"Are you sure? I don't want to impose on you and Winry."

"The last thing you'd be doing is imposing. Besides," Ed wagged a finger at his younger sibling, "you need a better place to finish your dissertation than a hotel, right?"

"I guess so. Thanks, Ed." Al flopped back on the couch, almost relieved. "It's kinda funny, I always thought you'd be the one to get the doctorate."

"Nah, I like my line of work."

"But with a doctorate-"

"No, Al."

"-you could get all kinds of research grants-"

"I'm not doing it."

"-and you know dad would help you." Ed stood up with an audible snap that caused Al to wince.

"Don't you call him that! I'm not getting a doctorate, Al. I thought I made that clear two years ago."

"But, brother, why…"

"You know why!" Al deflated at that, figuring it safest not to continue the argument. An unpleasant hush pervaded the room, broken only by the sounds of clanking in the kitchen. Al cleared his throat.

"How-uh, how are things between you and Winry? I haven't seen you guys since the wedding…"

"They're good, I think," Ed said, sitting back in a chair. "We had some fights but, I just transferred here so…"

"You guys seem happy."

"What about you? Any secret girlfriends? You were quite the heartthrob at South University. Or is research taking up too much time?"

"Pretty much the latter," Al confessed, "though don't worry Ed, I spend enough time with women…well, one woman in particular."

"Oh, really? And who would that be?" Al opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the loud chime of the doorbell. Ed quirked an eyebrow curiously and stood again, ambling over to the door and opening it warily.

He blinked.

Before him was a young girl looking no more than the age of seventeen. The first thing Ed registered was her short stature, and then there was her hair style. Her skin was also differently colored than any Amestrian's which led him to believe she was foreign. However, only one thing featured prominently in his thoughts: this girl was out of place.

"Uh…can I help you?"

"Is this the Elric residence?" she asked in a slightly high pitched voice.

"Um…"

"Mei, you found it!"

"Mr. Alphonse!" The young girl, Mei, stood on her tiptoes to wave at Al who had appeared behind Ed. "Oh, I'm sorry. My name is Mei Chang, I'm Alphonse's research assistant."

"Mei's the girl I was telling you about. She's enrolled in the Master's program at the Xingese University of Medicine. Her research with me allowed her to finish the program," Al explained and Ed moved aside to let the girl in. Much to Ed's amusement, Mei proceeded to fiercely hug Al, who looked considerably embarrassed. "M-Mei, this is my brother Edward."

"Oh, hello Mr. Edward, Alphonse has told me lots of great things about you. Although, I thought you'd be shorter."

"Al, what've you been telling her?" Ed asked poisonously.

"I'm uh, I'm gonna check on dinner."

"No need, dinner's ready. I already had most of the stew prep-oh!" Winry stopped short upon seeing the young Xingese woman in her front hallway.

"Right, this is my sister-in-law, Winry. Winry, this is Mei."

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Elric."

"Likewise…"

"All right, enough with the introductions already. I've had a long day, let's eat!" Ed said and he led the long entourage to the kitchen where they sat down. Winry mumbled something about being glad she had enough stew while Mei proceeded to ask Ed questions.

"Alphonse tells me you're in Forensics?"

"Yeah, I work for the police."

"What about you Winry?"

"Oh, I'm just a mechanic. I couldn't handle the blood and gore that Ed deals with every day."

"But you _do_ deal with it everyday." Winry glared at him, which earned a smirk in return.

"Any big cases lately?" Al asked, spoon dipping into his stew.

"Serial killer from Central; we call him The Chopper. We've got some good leads but nothing substantial yet," Ed answered before pausing thoughtfully, his spoon sticking out of his mouth. "There's supposed to be a press conference about it in Liore tomorrow."

"What about you Mei?" Winry asked, turning the conversation away from her husband. "You're pretty young for Master's level work, aren't you?"

"Seventeen, going on eighteen a month from now."

"You speak Amestrian very well, I have to say." Mei blushed vividly at the compliment.

"I hope so. I am planning on staying here. I'll go back to Xing briefly in a few weeks for my coming-of-age ceremony with my brother but I hope to get citizenship here."

"Mei's brother is in politics so anything related to him, like Mei's coming-of-age, is important. I think he made it easy for Mei to come to Amestris," Al explained and Winry nodded thoughtfully.

"Well, the more the merrier, I always say. It gets kind of lonely with only Ed and myself here."

"You got that right," Ed consented, taking a big gulp of stew. "Welcome back, Al. I'm glad you're here."

"I'm glad to be here too, Ed."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Obviously there was a wait but this story is a true labor of love and I want to give it the best it can get. I already have the entire plot written out and I only need write the actual story. Some flushing out of Ed and his life as well as the introduction to two very important characters. I would post more on this but if you want solid notes then visit my blog at epicocityrealities(dot)blogspot(dot)com. I may not update right away, but I promise that I should with the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed and please leave me a review, your response last chapter was astounding and I thank all of you. Let's keep it up. Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**So, how many references to all the canon material of Fullmetal Alchemist can you find throughout this story?**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.  
><strong>

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><p><span>Chapter 3<span>

"You wished to see me, sir?" Mustang asked, rubbing his eyes with the coffee cup in his hands. The old man stationed behind the desk looked up briefly, setting down his papers.

"Ah, yes, Roy. Do come in, and shut the door." Mustang complied and soon found himself sitting in the office's chairs, facing the man who had called him in. "You look like a miserable wreck. Anything I should know about?"

"Just this case I'm working on," Mustang said, running his fingers along his coffee cup. "A lot of leads that go nowhere. Hawkeye called me to tell me that-"

"Oh, drop the pretenses, Roy," the old man chuckled and Mustang couldn't help but glance at the elderly individual. "Is that how you refer to my granddaughter all the time?"

"I don't think I quite understand what you mean, chief." Mustang flashed a half-smile before downing his coffee and grimacing at the bitter taste. The chief guffawed loudly, slapping his desk with gusto.

"So, Mustang," the old man teased, "what is this case? Tell me about it."

"Serial killer from Central. Or so I've been told," Mustang answered. "Had some leads about a broken transmission on a refrigerator truck but you'd be surprised how many people won't let you look at things without a warrant."

"And I suppose you didn't have enough evidence to get a warrant?"

"Wasn't so much a lack of evidence, as it was too many places to look. In the end, I only got full lists from two or three places." Mustang snorted at this and rolled his eyes. "Not that it helped. I spent half the night poring over those lists of all their jobs in the past few days but nothing with refrigeration trucks that weren't legit companies."

"Hmmm…seems a conundrum. This is the reason you look like you've been dragged out of hell, then?" Mustang nodded, too exhausted to say much more. He had returned the day prior from running (or rather, driving) all along the eastern part of Amestris looking up car dealerships and commercial mechanics only to get scant lists. Of course, he knew that he wouldn't hit all of them but by ten in the evening he really couldn't care. Hawkeye had left him a note on his desk reiterating what she told him about on the phone (and tried to remind him about when he stopped in for lunch) but Mustang hadn't taken the time to really look. To that end, he immediately started going over the lists…only to be shaken awake by Hawkeye at six in the morning.

"Sir, how many times have I told you that late nights, paperwork, and you just don't mix?" she had told him with a stern glare; to which he leaned back in his chair with a smirk and cockily replied:

"At least one more time." She then proceeded to hit him over the head with his own paperwork before taking it back to her desk to look it over herself. He really couldn't have asked for a better partner if he tried; whether it would be from no available candidates or Hawkeye shooting him. He had yet to decide which one it would be. The chief grunted and Mustang forced himself to focus his thoughts.

"Thinking about Riza, eh?" he said with a snicker and Roy glared at him. Now he wished he hadn't finished his coffee; at least then he'd have a good excuse for his flushed face.

"Not in that way," Roy chided him, thought it only caused him to give an outright laugh. "Why, Chief Grumman, you're quite the pervy old man. Whatever would your wife say?"

"I think she'd be wondering why you and Riza haven't gotten laid yet."

"Chief!" Roy spluttered as Grumman doubled over from his laugh. Looking at Grumman, part of Mustang couldn't believe he was the Chief of the East City Police Department. For one thing, his moustache was absolutely ridiculous, making him look like some kind of super-villain. Then there were the round glasses and bald head. True, Grumman had some of the kindest eyes conceivable but Mustang knew how mischievous the old man could be. His collection of Drachman dolls, which every officer knew contained a hidden cache of information, was enough indication of that. Overall, Grumman didn't seem the type to be Chief, but he was a damn good one. As unconventional as he was old, Grumman as the ancient head of east City PD made a perfect complement to the young head detective. Both trusted each other implicitly and were the few officers of the law that were willing to try crazy things to catch the killer. Mustang quickly composed himself and gave a steely gaze to Chief Grumman. "Sir, I don't think you called me down here to discuss my relationship with your granddaughter."

"No, I didn't," Grumman admitted and in that second the light air of embarrassment was replaced by the cool indifference that Grumman was known to use so effectively. "Head Detective Mustang, considering that this is a serial killer, and we've all been there, is there a reason why the department received a call yesterday from Liore's very irate mayor?"

"He called?"

"Less called and more yelled. You mind telling me why?"

"Sounds to me like you already know," Mustang said, stifling a yawn in order to keep up the small staring contest between the two of them.

"Oh, Roy, don't play this game with me. You haven't beaten me once."

"There's a first time for everything."

"Mustang!" The detective's eyes narrowed at the use of his surname.

"Cain Leto, Liore's DA…" Mustang answered reluctantly, standing up from his chair, "and Mayor Cornello's son."

"Sounds wonderful."

"It's a fucking nightmare!" Mustang started to pace, tousling his hair periodically while Grumman watched him. "I told them. I _told_ them not to let any calls from Cornello or his staff through!"

"Hmm, Cornello called _me_, actually."

"You, sir?" Grumman said nothing, leaving Mustang to draw his own conclusions. "What exactly did he want?"

"Well, he was very incensed," Grumman chuckled, though his companion hardly found it the time for such a response. "Pretty much he was your usual politician, complaining about how it's been a day and we haven't caught the bastard yet. Trying to tell us how to do our jobs. I told him my best men were on it, he kept blabbing, so I told him we'd hold a press conference in Liore today."

"Should be interesting," Mustang remarked, sliding back into his chair.

"I hope so…I told him you'd be making a statement concerning your progress on the case at the press conference." Mustang's eyes widened in complete shock. In all his years as head detective, he had never once been forced to give a press conference, mostly considering the fact that his case closure rate was one of the highest in the country. No, Roy Mustang was not a man who had the need for press conferences. And he made sure to tell the chief this.

"That's not necessary. You know my progress, Chief, you could-"

"No arguments, Mustang," Grumman commanded and Mustang frowned as a result. The chief sighed from behind his desk and rubbed his balding temples. "Look, Roy, I'm doing this for you, my boy. For your future."

"I don't see how…" Mustang argued and slumped in his chair, knowing it was pointless to argue any further but wanting to all the same. Grumman stood at his answer and walked around the desk, placing a kind, almost fatherly hand on the head detective's shoulder.

"You're going to be chief one day, right?" Mustang jerked with sudden shock. There were very few people in the world in whom he had confided his ambitions, and they had all sworn not to tell a soul. Grumman, however, seemed to consider the fact immaterial and plowed on with his speech. "Well, as chief you're going to need to make use of press conferences and you'll be the front lines when it comes to them. That's why I think this will be a good experience for you. I intend on recommending you for the position when I retire and I want to prepare you for that as best I can."

"You mean _if_ you retire, right?" Grumman chortled and Mustang eased into a lazy smile.

"Oh, I'm too old for this, so…probably sooner than later," Grumman told him, withdrawing his hand and humor. "Press conference is at one. I expect to see you at Liore's City Hall no later than noon."

"Yes, sir," came the weary response and he stood, leading himself over to the door as the chief's telephone began to ring. On a slight impulse that betrayed his frustration he slammed the door shut. It wasn't the press conference that was aggravating him, no; rather it was the entire situation to begin with. Mustang was no stranger to difficult cases, even some cases that could be considered un-closeable, but this one was taking the cake so far. Not only were they dealing with a deranged, likely psychopathic, serial killer, but now it had become too intense of a political case. Of course, typically, such a case wouldn't even be assigned to his team, usually it would be given to the big wig detectives in Central; but there was always the likelihood that Grumman had stepped in to interfere. _Gotta make do with what you've got, I guess_, Mustang thought savagely to himself.

Granted, the truth was staring him in the face and if he didn't take the gift that had been dropped in his lap, he would lose the chance forever. A half-scowl-half-smirk found its way to his features as he walked back to his desk. Catching a serial killer that even those in Central couldn't catch would score him some big points. Especially in a case involving a murdered district attorney, if Mustang could catch the creep with the little evidence they had and have the East City DA make the charges stick he was sure to be slotted for promotion. Grumman had guessed him right and though he wanted to deny it, this whole Chopper business, press conference included, was his chance to get closer to that coveted throne. The throne that only the Bradleys had sat on before. Oh, he wouldn't deny that Commissioner Bradley, the man hand-picked by the president of Amestris and a jury of peers to rule of not only Central PD but her four subsidiaries as well, wasn't one of the most capable men he'd ever seen. But to most of Amestris, the man was a god. And Roy never had much time for gods.

"Havoc," Mustang warned as he strode over to his long-time protégé, "if you are wasting my time and department resources looking at scantily-clad hookers then prepare to have my foot shoved up your ass."

"Whoa, boss, no need for the expletives!" Havoc said, not turning away from his computer.

"Like you're one to talk, Jean," Breda said with a roll of his eyes. "In a bad mood?"

"Am I ever in a good mood after seeing the chief?"

"It's not like he's a bad chief, sir."

"That's what you'd say, Hawkeye. He's your grandfather." Riza shrugged as though she couldn't care wither way. "Hmm, everyone's here but Armstrong and Feury?"

"Yes, I sent the two of them on an errand pertaining to the case."

"Oh, Detective, must you always have my back?" Hawkeye turned away from him to go back to her desk, but Mustang could tell she was clearly smiling. "All right, then. What're we looking at if not Havoc's Harem?"

"I like the sound of that, 'Havoc's Harem'," Havoc sighed out, looking like he was actually imagining it in his mind's eye. Breda cleared his throat loudly, calling Havoc back from the brink of his fantasy. "But, no, I'm actually taking the time to look at our little friend."

"Little friend?"

"The Elric kid," Breda informed him and Mustang quirked an eyebrow, intrigued. "Pretty interesting too. Did you know he graduated from college and got his job at South PD at only seventeen?"

"No surprise, seeing as he's only twenty," Mustang quipped, leaning forward to read the computer screen over Havoc's shoulder. "Though I have to say on paper he looks quite impressive. Graduated from high school at fourteen before going to South University for three years on a full scholarship. The kid seems a genius."

"Heh, and that's just the tip of the iceberg," Havoc claimed with a smirk. "Wait till you see his case files and commendations." With a singular click, a long list appeared before the three men. Mustang's eyes widened involuntarily as he glanced over just the first part of the list.

"Who the hell is this kid?" Mustang yelped, perhaps a little too loudly, and Riza chuckled, only sparing her partner a quick glance.

"He's your new forensics specialist."

"So I've noted, but have you seen this? He's helped to close almost as many cases as I have in the two years he's been with the department."

"Yeah, he's a genius, all right," Breda observed and now Mustang really felt like scowling. "Hey, look at this one. He even worked with Falman up at North PD."

"Oh, am I so glad _I_ didn't get transferred there," Havoc remarked, suppressing a shudder that Mustang nearly emulated himself. "Ooh, this is a good one: a commendation from the commissioner himself."

"Do you guys really have time to be acting like little boys wondering who got the highest grade in the class?" Hawkeye scolded them sharply, causing the three to look at her questioningly.

"A good superior always looks after the people below him."

"Nice to know where we stand."

"Quiet, Havoc!"

"Believe what you will, sir," Hawkeye remarked coolly, turning her attention back to her work while the men went back to looking at the computer. An article appeared on the screen, dated a little over six months ago. On the article was a picture of the young Elric boy standing next to a podium with the same cocky smirk on his face that Mustang had met him with. Situated at said podium in the picture was Commissioner Bradley himself. An older man, somewhere in his sixties, Bradley looked just as intimidating now, with his still jet black hair and moustache, as he did nearly twenty years ago when he took the job.

"'Young Edward Elric had proved to be an enormous asset to our great state of Amestris'," he began to read from the screen. "'His bravery and intelligence has shown itself to be more than substantial in bringing to justice the Slicer Brothers, who have plagued this city with their heinous acts of crime. Despite his youth, he has truly shown remarkable resilience; thus do I give him the honors of recognition and the name of Fullmetal for his steel-faced determination at the sight of blood and gore as well as for'-"

"-'for his automail leg. A fitting commendation'," came the younger voice which caused the three to whip around and Hawkeye to snicker. Edward was standing there, a tack of papers in one hand, the other pulling his left pant leg up. Now that Roy had a better look, he saw the metal plating that made up the young man's leg. Some part of him wondered how it had happened; the other part was annoyed the boy had snuck up on them. "Or so Commissioner Bradley says."

"Edward, how nice to see you," Mustang exclaimed emphatically. With deftness, he wheeled away from him and angled toward his desk. Edward followed him.

"Cut the crap, detective."

"Hey, that's Head Detective," he reminded him, earning a scoff. "Fine. What do you want, Elric?" A large thud resounded as Edward dropped the stack of papers onto his desk, forcing the head detective to glare at it vehemently.

"That is the paperwork you promised me you would sign yesterday after your lunch," Edward told him. "Imagine my surprise when I stop by to find it abandoned."

"Huh…Detective Hawkeye, any reason you didn't remind me to sign these?"

"I'm your partner, sir, not your sitter," Hawkeye pointed out, "and I did remind you. _You_ just decided that you had more important things to do."

"Don't blame yourself, big guy," Breda called to Edward. "Mustang's always like this whenever he's trying to get out of work. If it weren't for Hawkeye there, he wouldn't get anything done."

"Hey! I get plenty done!" Mustang argued back, but the team around him laughed as a response. "On a more serious note, I'm afraid I have quite a few things to do so-"

"I don't think so, Lord Detective," Edward commanded, slamming his hand on the stack. Mustang grumbled at the new nickname and looked into Edward's golden eyes with a glare. "You can shirk all you want, but I'm not losing my job because you didn't do yours."

"You drive a hard bargain," Mustang conceded, pulling the papers toward him. Edward leaned against the desk and watched him sign the forms as quickly as possible. Noise came from the chief's office and Mustang looked up to see Grumman leaving. He whispered a curse and started speeding through the rest.

"So, any other news on the Chopper?"

"Sorry, but I didn't have time to look into that lead," Mustang disclosed, "and a burlap sack with synthetic hair and blood gives me somewhat of a long shot. Now, if the blood was our killer's then hey, but what serial killer would be that stupid? There, all done! Your job is safe." But Edward didn't say anything, opting instead to bring his fingers up to his face.

"Blood…was I wrong?" Edward mumbled. His automail leg tapped the floor agitatedly before he whipped around, picking up his papers. "Thanks."

"Anytime, Fullmetal," Mustang taunted and Edward paused, giving him a curt nod before whizzing through the hall and out of sight. Mustang stared after him a moment before tousling his hair and grabbing his coat. "Well, I gotta get moving or I won't make it to that press conference in time."

"Press conference, all right!" Havoc cheered. "Boss man's moving on up!" Mustang chose to say nothing as a response; there was an unspoken agreement that they would follow him to the throne. A glance at the clock told him how close it was to ten, and he slung his jacket over him. Then the telephone on his desk rang.

"Head Detective Roy Mustang, East City Police Department," he confirmed, answering the phone. A minute pause followed until a young voice responded.

"Detective?" spoke the voice, "This is Russell Tringham from Tringham Oddities and Antiquities at the Xenotime Mall. Your partner, Detective Hawkeye, stopped by yesterday investigating the purchase of a burlap sack and brown wig."

"Did she now?"

"Yes. Unfortunately, as my father is the owner of the store I didn't have access to that kind of information. However, my father is in and willing to help if you'd like to stop by. I believe we had a similar purchase roughly a week ago."

"Sounds good, Mister Tringham. I think we'll do just that!" Mustang confirmed with a grin.

"All right, I'll see you soo-Fletch, watch out!" The line disconnected and Mustang quickly hung the phone up.

"Havoc! Breda! Go with Hawkeye to this Tringham place and get his info. This might be the break we're looking for."

"You got it boss!" His three compatriots stood, grabbing their own coats.

"I'll call you when I'm done in Liore," Mustang instructed before he flapped away from them, out of the station and into his car. For some reason, he couldn't erase the wide stretching grin from his face. He'd have to be careful in the press conference. After all, Mustang knew there was every potential that the killer would be watching, and he'd hate to tip his hand.

Pulling onto the main road that led to Liore, Mustang settled into the drive comfortably. Scoffing to himself, he realized he was getting far too comfortable with this drive for his tastes. On the other hand, if a two hour drive was all he needed to do to earn points with the mayor, chief, and commissioner all at once; he'd be a happy man. As he continued, his mind was once again inexorably drawn to his ultimate goal and the article he had read. Edward had worked at Central, more often than not considered to be the ultimate place of prestige in the police department, but had transferred out here. This confirmed what Mustang already knew: there was no need to have his eyes drawn to Central unless it was to look at the throne. Even so, it helped to understand the concept.

Amestris' police department was the premiere law enforcement agency in the country under the ruling of the President of Amestris herself. She was the one who chose Commissioner Bradley. Likewise, he was the one who chose the chiefs in Central, East, West, North and South. Then they chose their head detectives and everyone who came after. Regardless, Central Police Department was considered the closest to the commissioner, so a transfer there usually equated to promotion. But to Mustang, there was no point unless he became chief there. That very thought sustained him until he arrived at Liore's City Hall. His detective's badge was enough to let him through, and no sooner had he stepped in than he ran into Grumman and Cornello.

"Mustang, I see you made it on time!" Grumman remarked and Mustang inclined his head toward both of the officials.

"Chief, Mayor Cornello," he greeted them. "How are you holding up, sir?"

"I think I feel more anger than grief at this moment. Cain's funeral is tomorrow and you haven't caught his killer yet," Cornello complained and Mustang had to take a moment to evaluate his next statement.

"Then you'll be happy to know that we have several strong leads. I think we're very close, sir. Although, I can somewhat agree with your position. Your anger is most understandable." Cornello nodded, and Mustang was grateful for this far milder version of the mayor.

"Mayor Cornello!" cried a familiar voice and both Mustang and Grumman turned to see the young woman approaching the mayor.

"What is it, Rose? What's wrong?" the mayor asked kindly; an attitude shift that confused Mustang greatly, but he supposed that was just part of the man.

"The reporters, they're already arriving," Rose answered. Mustang exhaled in relief. It was now clear why Grumman had wanted him to come so early: he had gotten in just before the storm. Cornello and Rose started holding a conversation in harsh whispers and the head detective couldn't help but observe them. Often, he prided himself on understanding the emotional cues of the victim's loved ones…after all, he had been there. The hardest part of this, however, was seeing himself in each of them, especially these two. The timid and demure Rose, whose body was clearly falling apart but stubbornly held together, and the mayor, whose body shook with anger and want for vengeance. Roy had yet to decide which was worse.

"Looks like it's time, Roy," Grumman whispered in his ear and motioned toward the retreating mayor and his secretary.

"Do press conferences always start earlier than they're supposed to?" Mustang questioned.

"Depends on what they're about," Grumman considered, "but serial killers can whip the population into a panic." Mustang didn't ask anymore as he stood next to the chief while Cornello addressed the sea of reporters that had suddenly appeared. His throat was going dry at the sight, though he knew it wasn't because of the situation. Rather, it was the reminder that it gave him of two years ago. Mustang's fists clenched in his pockets, but as Grumman took Cornello's place he took a deep breath and relaxed himself. Grumman said a few words regarding the situation before inviting the detective to the fore. As soon as he approached the podium, the questions started.

"Detective Mustang, you put out the BOLO for The Chopper? How are you sure it's him?"

"We have various pieces of evidence pointing to The Chopper. His MO, for one thing, is the same in this case as seen in his other murders."

"Do you know why he murdered the DA?"

"No. I'm a detective, not a serial killer; I can't fathom how his mind works. But when we catch him, I'll be sure to let you know the answer."

"Do you have any leads?"

"Yes, various odds and ends here and there. However, at this time I'm keeping that information between myself and my team." This statement seemed to cause unrest amongst the reporters. "I'm sorry, but evidence is very sensitive and disclosing it can make the difference between catching a killer and letting him kill again. Any other questions?" An unsettling hush fell over the crowd. Clearly his statement had more power than he had imagined. "Thank you for your time, then."

"Not bad, Roy. Not bad," Grumman complimented him as he stepped down and let Cornello take over.

"I thought they'd ask more."

"Easier to ask when everything's said and done. So, what are you doing now?"

"Hope you don't mind but the rest are looking into a lead, so I should get back to them."

"By all means, go. The sooner we catch this guy, the better for all of us." Mustang gave him thanks before slipping away very quietly. As soon as he was safely in his car, he quickly called Hawkeye and waited for a response. The phone rang five times before her voicemail came up and Mustang closed his phone. With a defeated breath, he turned the car on and started back towards East City. Periodically he would try to reach his partner, and though it worried him that she refused to pick up, he knew she was quite capable. Thinking on Riza, however, reminded him of his conversation with Grumman, and another one he wished he could forget.

_Oh, so she's like a childhood sweetheart?_

_ C'mon, Roy, you know you love her._

_ Look, Roy, you deserve to be just as happy as me and Gracia._

Roy rubbed his forehead when suddenly he heard a loud noise and his car suddenly felt strange. With a groan he stopped the car and stepped out to see his tire blown. Cursing loudly, Roy went to his trunk and rummaged around. A few moments later he had attached his spare. Sliding back into the car he glanced at the GPS and noticed he was still a good half-hour from East City. Scowling, he looked on the GPS for the nearest mechanic and noticed one was just a mile away in Resembool. He put the car back in drive and set off, grateful there was a mechanic in such a small town. Not five minutes later, he arrived at the shop that had a rather large garage and a smaller building attached to the side. The shop seemed relatively empty, but Roy figured as it was just past lunchtime most people were probably back at work. Roy walked up the small path to the house, glancing at a sign that read:

ROCKBELL MECHANICS

Serving Resembool for 100 yrs

"I'll be with you in a moment," called a feminine voice as Roy stepped in the smaller of the two buildings. As the woman said, moments later she appeared, jumpsuit hanging off of her. Her blonde hair was pulled up in the back and there was a grease smudge on her cheek. "Well, you don't look like you're here for automail."

"Er, no…" Roy stammered, recovering for his shock at seeing a woman mechanic. "Car had a flat tire."

"Did you replace it with a spare?"

"Yes, but I have quite a bit to go and I don't want to ruin my car," Roy admitted and the young woman smiled at him.

"We'll go look in the garage. What model?"

"Ezo-20."

"Should have some tires for that. It might cost you, though."

"Better than paying for car damage."

"Very true." The two stepped into the garage and the young woman walked over to the rack of fresh tires. "Here we are."

"Oh, let me help."

"Nope. I got it, but thank you," she insisted, taking the tire down and rolling it along, grabbing a jack on the way to Roy's car. With a certain swiftness, she easily popped the car up and went to work affixing the tire.

"You're quite skilled. Are you the proprietor?"

"Yep!" she answered enthusiastically. "Well, technically my family is but I'm the only one around anymore, so I run the shop. I usually have another mechanic on staff but his wife went into labor so I let him take the day off."

"So, you're a Rockbell then? I noticed the shop sign…" Roy commented as the young woman finished her work and stood up.

"Was. I'm married, so you can just call me Winry," she told him, holding out her now ungloved hand to show off her sparkling wedding band. "Two years now."

"Congratulations. It's not very often people find love so young. He must be a lucky guy."  
>Winry snorted in humor but Roy decided to not ask why, opting instead to follow her into the shop while she rang up the order.<p>

"That'll be 9000 Cenz." Roy simply handed here a card to finish the transaction as he looked around the shop.

"You get a lot of business here?"

"Some days are slower than others, but Rockbell Mechanics has attempted to be a comprehensive mechanic service since its inception. We do it all: automail, cars, trucks-"

"Trucks?" Roy mused, causing Winry to cut herself off. "By any chance have you serviced any transmissions on refrigerator trucks recently?"

"Yes, actually, I serviced one yesterday. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Roy Mustang, Head Detective at the East City Police Department. Currently we're investigating a case where a serviced transmission might be the key to solving it. I can show you my badge or get a warrant if you need it."

"No, that's okay," Winry assured him, digging into a file cabinet. "My husband works there too, so I kind of get it."

"Hmm…I'm surprised he didn't say anything about this."

"He doesn't like telling me _anything_ about his work. I think he wants to protect me," Winry commented. "He can be sweet…when he wants to be. Here you go." Mustang took the file from her with a smile.

"Thanks very much."

"No problem. Just make sure to remember Rockbell Mechanics any time you need service."

"You know, I think I might." With that, Mustang departed the small shop and returned to his car, dialing Hawkeye once again.

"Detective Hawkeye," she responded.

"Hawkeye, please tell me your lead panned out, cause I think we just found our transmission lead and I want to compare it," Mustang informed her.

"That's good. Ours did, in fact, pan out. The Tringhams were very helpful. They even provided us a sample of the burlap and wig to double check everything."

"Did you send it down to Elric in Forensics for that double check?"

"That's the thing, sir. Edward's been missing since this morning." Confusion, fear, and curiosity gripped Mustang all at once as he took a deep breath.

"What do you mean, 'Elric's missing'?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: This chapter was actually easy to write…I'm worried I didn't try hard enough. So, setting some stuff up here. I liked a lot of the scenes I wrote, particularly the Roy and Winry interaction. Anway, I noticed reviews were, clearly, down last chapter and it made me sad. However, to all those who did review I humbly thank you. Just remember, a favorite is not a review, and doesn't make a better story for you. On that note, I'd appreciate lots of reviews this chapter as we keep it going with some analysis or something more than "This is great!". In the meantime, Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**From here on out we finish the first arc of this nine-arc story and start the main vehicle of the plot. Please enjoy.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 4<span>

If there was one thing that Ed hated, it was being wrong. Part of that was attributed to his natural-born stubbornness. He refused to accept, on principle, that he could be wrong. Winry and Al, of course, chose to take every opportunity to try and prove he could be wrong. They often succeeded, even if Ed didn't want them to. The other part was that Ed was rarely wrong. He knew his stuff and how to come out with the right answer. That's why there was no way that Ed could be wrong.

But Edward Elric _was_ wrong. Now he had to make sure he was right the second time.

"Hey, Ed, watch it!" Heinkel roared as Ed rushed past him.

"Sorry, Heinkel, no time to waste!" Ed called back, sweeping past his desk to drop his papers. Heinkel left the room muttering, causing Darius to look up from his own desk.

"What's got your hair in a knot?" Darius called but Ed had mostly blocked him out, tumbling through the evidence containers with abandon. He couldn't be wrong. He couldn't be. But he had to know for sure. With a yank he dragged out the container he was looking for and, like a possessed man, proceeded into the lab. He didn't notice the odd look Doctor Marcoh threw him as he set up shop around a microscope and got to his frenetic work. The blood was rushing to his head, and his heart was pounding faster than he could recently remember it. It took him a whole minute to realize that he was actually reeling.

"Focus, Elric, focus!" he commanded himself, and looked into the microscope. "Definitely the molecular properties of blood: fat, iron, urea…but there's something…Damn it!" In an act of anger, Ed slammed his hands on the lab table, cursing fluently under his breath. His fists clenched and it took all his self-restraint to not dismantle the microscope in front of him.

"What's wrong, Edward?" Doctor Marcoh asked loudly and Ed looked at him. The older man's face was clearly lined with shock at his younger companion's outburst. "It didn't seem like you to-"

"The blood," Ed told him pointedly. "I was wrong." Marcoh cast him a concerned glance as he ambled over to the microscope. While Marcoh looked at the object of Ed's frustrations, the young forensics specialist endured a moment of self-loathing.

"It's animal blood; pig, if I'm not mistaken," Marcoh said, straightening up to look squarely at Ed, who was practically beating himself over the head.

"I know!" he screamed and Marcoh frowned at him. This prompted Ed to take a deep breath and relax himself before he said any more. "I know that now. But I had just assumed it was the victim's blood."

"Then, think, Edward: why did you make that assumption?" Marcoh asked him sternly and Ed thought for a moment. He was always one for thinking rationally (unless he was fighting, then all bets were off the table) and so there had to have been a reason that he had thrown away the blood as the victim's. There was only one reason why that could have possibly been the case.

"It was all over the crime scene…" Ed mused and Marcoh nodded, silently urging him to continue in his thought processes. "The entire crime scene was practically covered in blood, leastways where the victim's body was, but I just figured it was the victim's."

"So don't berate yourself for what was a logical assumption."

"Wait…" Ed mumbled out, holding up a finger. "Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait…I remarked to Detective Mustang that there should have been very little blood, because the victim was killed elsewhere. There was a lot of blood around the place where the body was dumped. Maybe…just maybe, it wasn't our victim's; maybe it wasn't even human blood altogether."

"So…what're you thinking?" Ed jiggled his leg a little as he thought about his next move.

"I have to make sure…" Marcoh eyed him with a slight twinkling in his eyes and Ed grinned at his new boss. "Hope you don't mind Doctor Marcoh, but I've gotta make a run down to the crime scene."

"Not a problem." Ed uttered a quick word of thanks as he sped from the lab, quickly grabbing his keys, and headed up to the police station in general. As he ran up the stairs, he couldn't help but hear his co-workers speaking. "Darius, with Ed gone, I need you to get this evidence report to Detective Kaufman and District Attorney Hakuro."

"You've gotta be kidding me! You serious, boss?" Ed stifled his laughter, opting instead to keep heading forward to the outside air of East City. The city wasn't particularly beautiful at this point of the year but it was better than the searing heat of South City or the blistering cold of North City. The only thing Ed didn't like was the monotony of the city: tall steel buildings that stretched on to the rolling plains of Resembool, or to the river that was the conduit for all of Eastern Amestris. Most people in the country understood that East was all about manufacturing, and contained various industries like steel, meat packing, and all manner of production facilities. The ending result of this was the grey uniformity of East City that was bad enough when it was sunny; even worse given the near perpetual rain. Ed was grateful that today was the former.

As the young forensics specialist started his car, he ran an agitated hand through his golden locks. He had screwed up, and he just hoped that no one else would pay the price for it. It wasn't the first time he had made a mistake, and despite wishing it would be the last, he knew that wasn't possible. After all, with so many variables entering into the equation that solved a case, things got mixed up and lost quite often. This meant that somewhere along the line, Forensics didn't have the necessary data to do their job right. This inevitably led to mistakes. That wasn't the problem, however. Instead, the real issue was that a mistake at a corporation only meant bankruptcy; a mistake on the force meant lives. And for all that Ed could remember he had only made one major mistake in his career that had allowed the killer to walk away. He wasn't blamed for it; the whole situation had been tricky to begin with, and he was still relatively new to the force at the time. Either way, he had made a mistake that one day and it cast a pall on his own outlook for his career. Now, he was determined to not make that kind of mistake again. He was going to help catch The Chopper and make sure no one else would be killed.

The air started becoming hotter and Ed realized he was closer to Liore than he had originally thought. Not a fun ride either way, but Ed was just grateful that it was a simple one. With Liore being such a big city after all, and an important stop on the eastern trade route, it made sense that a highway stretched all the way from east City to there (but the recent bouts of construction didn't help). Ed quickly found parking near an apartment complex and jogged over to where memory served the crime scene was. He stopped short slightly, as he saw the two uniformed officers standing in front of the yellow police tape.

"Excuse me," Ed called, finishing the rest of his journey over to the scene. The two cops stationed on duty immediately reached for their guns and Ed threw his hands in the air. "Whoa, no need for an itchy trigger finger." One of the cops, a woman with black hair, stopped herself from grabbing her gun but didn't relax in her stance.

"Who are you and why are you here?" she barked and Ed quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his badge.

"Edward Elric, Forensics." He handed his badge over to the woman, and both she and her partner leaned in to take a look at it. "So…can I pass?"

"It looks real," the black-haired cop commented while her sandy-haired companion nodded dubiously.

"What do you mean by that? Of course it's real!" Ed snapped, snatching his badge back from her. "Honestly…"

"Well, you do look kind of young and you wouldn't believe the stunts that kids pull. I mean, I tried lots of things when I was younger-"

"Don't compare me with you," Ed said with a glare toward the sandy-haired male. "I'm not pulling anything. You can call my boss, Doctor Marcoh if you'd like. Though I'd rather not have that happen."

"Hey, I didn't-I mean-"

"It's fine. Let's just calm down," the cop who had initially questioned him said, folding her arms, "and Brosh, relax. Go ahead and look." Ed mumbled his thanks as he dipped under the tape to the alleyway beyond.

"I'll be fine, you guys can go if you want," Ed told them nonchalantly but the two simply stood there.

"I don't think so. We're under strict orders from Head Detective Mustang to not leave the scene of the crime."

"Mustang…of course," Ed breathed out with animosity. "What, does he think the killer is going to return to the scene of the crime?" Despite his question being accompanied by a laugh, neither of the cops showed any sign of humor, the black-haired one merely sharpening her glare.

"I can't say what his intentions are, but we have to patrol this area until we are relieved of duty."

"Hey, Mari-Ross, maybe we should just let him do what he wants. He _is_ Forensics."

"We're still cops. Grow a spine, Denny!" Ross snapped at her companion and Ed rolled his eyes at their antics, unable to even remotely focus on his work with their yammering.

"Fine, follow his orders to the letter, if you want," Ed responded with desperation, "but you might as well go and take a coffee break. I work better alone."

"Tch, arrogant little twerp."

"Who are you calling so little that you need a microscope to see?"

"Sh-she didn't say that!"

"I don't care! I need the space to work!"

"All right, already. Ten minutes, then we'll be back. Brosh, let's go!"

"Yes, ma'am…" And with that feeble agreement, the two cops left the scene, finally allowing a chance for Ed to breathe. Chuckling to himself over their exchange, even if he still felt a little miffed, Ed turned to the medium-sized, dry pool of blood that was concealed in the alleyway. His face pulled into another frown as he knelt next to it. His nose recoiled from the smell and it took all his willpower to not turn away and have someone else deal with the whole situation. He was, however, used to the sight of blood and he had a reputation to keep. Steeling himself again, he focused on the substance at hand. The pool of blood had, unfortunately, congealed and the small, dried rivulets of fat were clearly visible to the naked eye. This was no doubt due to the immense heat that Liore suffered daily, causing the blood to bake and eventually form the solidified fat.

To Ed, however, the presence of the fat was as much a sign of his failure as anything. Just to be sure, Ed pulled a small vial from his pants' pocket and used it to scrape off some of the fat. It wasn't the greatest test material, but it would have to do. There was no doubt in his mind that the fat he had collected most certainly came from an animal. There was no possible way that a human as strapping as the victim could have that much fat in his blood. Tucking away from the scene he turned to the exit, only to find a strange woman looking at him; strange in the fact that he hadn't heard her approach.

"Oh, can I help you?" Ed called to her and the woman flinched. "Oh, sorry, this blood is days old…wait, that didn't come out right…"

"Are you…a cop?" the woman asked in a low voice, causing Ed to stop trying to dust off the dried blood on his jeans. It had caught him unawares when she had spoken, a small nudge of discomfort entering his mind.

"Closest thing to it, I guess," he responded.

"So, you're not a cop…that's a shame." A sharp tingle ran down Ed's spine. Yep, there was definitely something that was off-putting about this woman. She practically screamed creepy, but Ed wasn't going to judge without proof.

"Well, I kind of am, otherwise I wouldn't be allowed behind the tape," Ed told her, motioning around the area. In response, she seemed to stroke her chin in thought. "But, hey, you really shouldn't be here. Was there something you needed help with?"

"Oh, my, yes!" she exclaimed and Ed stepped away from the scene. "I had some goods I was carrying to the local grocer, but my vehicle broke down. Do you know anything about automobiles?"

"Not particularly…But if you take me over to your car, I can help out…maybe."

"That's very kind of you."

"No problem, ma'am." The woman flashed a smile at him and Ed reluctantly returned it. As he stepped over the police line, his mind kept arguing with his body. Almost every part of his being kept telling him not to go with this woman. It wasn't too late, he could still run. Unlike Al, he wouldn't feel bad abandoning this woman if it meant following his gut feeling. Maybe that was why Al could never be suited for this kind of work, he thought in an attempt to suppress his fearful musings. "So, which way?"

"Oh, it's not too far," she said with another smile, walking off slowly in the opposite direction of where Ed had come from. Steeling himself with a breath, Ed followed her through the street. "So…what happened in there Mr. Not-A-Police-Officer?"

"You haven't heard?" Ed asked her with a frown and she shook her head. Another tingle ran down as he watched the movement of her hair. "I would've thought everyone knew by now."

"Oh, I don't live here," she said with a small laugh, "I just deliver meat to the grocers in the area for some people in East City."

"Uh-huh," Ed mused. "Well, it's just…um, a man was murdered and his body was dumped there. It was actually the city DA, so the whole city is kind of in an uproar about it…or so I've heard."

"How…horrible," she said, and Ed could see her repress a shudder. "Is that what everyone's presence at City Hall is all about?"

"Yeah, they're all talk…" Ed trailed off as the alarms in his head went on a sudden, full alert.

"Just over here!" came the announcement, but Ed had slowed down. How could this woman know the press conference was at City Hall? She didn't know anything about the crime, and, on top of that, her vehicle had broken down before she could have possibly made it near City Hall. All of a sudden, the pieces started coming together: she was delivering meat, and whether that was a lie or not, meat had plenty of animal fat and blood. Then there was her hair, and the odd way it moved. It couldn't have been natural. Ed watched the woman turn into another alleyway and he knew that this was the chance to prove his theory.

He quickly stopped at the edge of the alleyway to gain his bearings. Not bothering to say anything, Ed whipped around to look at the alleyway. A thick white gas assailed him and coughs racked his body. He tried to fight it, unsure of just what kind of gas it was, but his vision started to blur. His knees hit the ground first as he collapsed on the hard concrete. Bit by bit, his vision faded, though he could have sworn he saw a large truck sitting with its doors open in the middle of the alleyway. Consciousness started slipping away from him as he felt a strong pair of hands pick him up. And as Ed fainted, he could have sworn he heard voices in the distance.

* * *

><p><em>Clang! Whiiiiir!<em>

Ed's body jerked suddenly, awakened by the sudden noises. His eyes popped open and immediately watered from the sting of air upon them. Ed tried to move his hand to wipe the fluid away, but found that he couldn't. Attempting to open them once again, Ed fought the impending tears and tried to get a view of his surroundings. It did him no good, as he eyes were still entirely too blurry to be of any use in getting a big picture. He attempted to bend his vision to where his hands were and he managed to clear up enough to see that they were bound to a wooden chair. However, he did note that his leg seemed to be free. Ed blindly attempted to stand up, chair and all, before tumbling back down to the floor with a clatter. He swore.

The blood rushed back to Ed's head and his vision seemed to clear, though the air still stung at it. His left leg was missing, and with it, his ability to escape. Ed panned the area with his sight, taking everything in. With another jolt, he realized exactly where he was. A cold shiver ran along his body as he felt blood seeping into his clothes as he lay on the floor. Above him were racks upon racks of dead animals: cows, pigs, and the like. Ed didn't need to look to know that at the end of those racks were machines just waiting to carve the poor beasts up. There was very little noise throughout the meat-packing facility, making him assume that most of the workers had gone home for the day. A small look upwards confirmed it, with the already darkening skyline.

"Now, now, don't you go making trouble for me," mumbled a soft voice, with just a tinge of crazy behind it. Ed felt his chair being lifted upright and his body jostled around. Now in a natural sitting position, Ed noticed the table in front of him, a whole array of knives resting on them, his automail leg among the other assorted metal objects on the table.

"What…am I doing here?" Ed asked, a distinct dryness in his throat. "And where exactly is 'here'?" The figure who had picked him up said nothing for a moment, only walking over to the table and picking up a knife that glinted malevolently in the dying embers of the day's glow. Staring at the man, who was clearly a man, he recognized the figure as that of the "woman" he had met earlier.

"You're at the slaughterhouse in the factory district of East City," he said with no small amount of glee and Ed scowled.

"You didn't answer my first question."

"I thought you'd figure it out on your own."

"Yeah well the chloroform you sprayed me with seems to be blocking my brain."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to know that!" the man scolded him, whipping around to look at his captive. Ed recoiled at the sight of the man. He was fairly decent looking, save for the blood spatters on his face and clothes, which, the young man noted, seemed to contain a burlap cape draped over his shoulders. Ed would've laughed were it not for his perilous situation. Instead, what really threw him off was the crazed gleam in his eye; a gleam that told Ed this man would kill him and enjoy every second of it. Despite his repulsion, he did note the name tag on the man's clothes: "Barry". "How'd ya do that, bub? I thought you said you were a cop."

"I said no such thing. I said I was close," he protested and "Barry" held his knife dangerously close to Ed's throat.

"Don't yell at me kid. I ain't your friend."

"No, you're a psychotic whackjob who kills people for fun, right Barry the Chopper?" Barry glared at him for a moment before his lips stretched themselves into a wide smile.

"For fun? I've never been so insulted in my life!" Barry yelled. "I don't kill people for fun. The way I chop up those annoying little pricks is like how an artist paints his masterpiece, only I do it with blood!"

"Somehow, I don't think most people would agree-" A loud thunk interrupted Ed's statement and he saw the knife that Barry had been holding dug so deep into the table that the wood had splintered.

"Do I look like the kind of guy who cares what others think?"

"No…you don't."

"Exactly! I don't care." Suddenly, Barry was in Ed's face and he could smell the blood and animal fat that was dripping off him. "I love to chop up the flesh of living people. I don't do it for fun! I do it because it's a way of life. Just 'cause society doesn't agree…does that mean _I_ shouldn't live?"

"And what about the people you chopped up? They deserved to live."

"Don't give me that philosophical bullcrap! Look, I may not be paid a salary like you guys on the other side of the law do, but I get a payoff for my profession all the same. It's hard work, and chums like you don't make it any easier."

"You're certifiably insane."

"We're all a little insane."

"Geez, this conversation is going nowhere. I wish I had caught you back in Central," Ed murmured.

"Central? Now there were some jobs I'd love to do all over again; _great_ working conditions."

"Freak."

"Hey, now that you mention it, you do look kind of familiar…" Barry mused, pulling back from Ed with a pensive expression on his face.

"You just noticed that? I was one of the guys chasing you."

"Hmmm…nope, don't remember. Now where was I? Fun, life, chop…oh yeah!"

"Gah! You're impossible!" Ed screamed as Barry turned towards his table again.

"You know, I was only able to kill that other guy before I stumbled upon you," Barry said as he grabbed a knife and turned towards Ed. "I had plenty of victims in Central, but here, just the one. My only mistake was that I should've dumped his body in the river…though my boss woulda been suspicious, then. Ah well, guess I can make up for it right now. Time to chop you up!"

"Like hell you will!" The knife came at Ed and he tipped backwards, his right foot soaring outward. The sole of his shoe hit Barry's knife hand and Barry stumbled, his knife sailing back. Without his second leg, his chair fell backward and slammed on the floor. Pain arced through Ed's back as he hit the floor and the chair splintered. "Cheap chair…" With a tug, Ed managed to free his arms just in time to see Barry running at him with the knife back in his possession. He quickly rolled his body away from the plunging blade and slammed into one of the hanging carcasses. Barry charged after him and Ed brought his foot up again, this time nailing him in the crotch. Barry howled in pain, dropping his knife, while Ed grabbed onto the dead cow and pulled himself up. Before the deranged killer recovered, Ed hopped over to the table. Another yell and Ed turned to see Barry up and about again. As the knife came swinging back down, Ed seized his leg and wrenched it away as the knife hurtled with such force that it got stuck into the table.

Not wanting to waste any time, Ed hobbled off as Barry regained himself, pushing through the thicket of dead pigs until he reached a good distance. He strained his ears for any noise, but only heard muttered curses. Breathing heavily, Ed tried to calm his thoughts. He was better off than he had been a minute ago, and that was a start. He quickly looked at his leg and saw that it looked no worse for the wear, other than the gears having some blood on them. _Oh man, Winry's gonna kill me if this guy doesn't._

"Where are ya, you little rat?" came Barry's unhinged voice. "If you don't come out, I'll take my cleaver and CHOP you!" As Barry said the word "chop", he sliced down one of the nearby pigs, causing Ed to jump.

_Focus, this is no time to be thinking about the ramifications of this on your marriage, Ed._ With a quick movement, Ed jammed his leg back into its port. Another loud noise nearby indicated Barry's second "chop". Ed breathed deep, trying to remember what Winry had said about connecting the nerves in all her automail-induced babble. His hand flitted around like crazy before finding the switch and pulling it with all his might. Ed's mouth let out an unwanted scream as pain filled his left side and his body crumpled over. He was lucky it did as Barry's cleaver came sailing through the pig right next to him.

"Found you!" Ed closed his eyes. He couldn't move yet; the pain from his nerves connecting was still too much. This was it. He was going to die. He could almost sense the cleaver falling towards him.

BOOM! Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Ah, you shot me!" Ed opened his eyes with a snap and saw Barry in front of him. His cleaver was abandoned on the floor, and beyond the row of pigs stood Detective Riza Hawkeye, her gun still smoking.

"Test me again and I'll shoot you somewhere else," she told him coolly and Barry looked at his hand, which was bleeding profusely.

"Holy crap! That was some sharp shooting!" he exclaimed. "I think I'm in love!"

"Well, if you love her, then you'll _really_ love me," said a third voice and Ed turned his head to see Mustang, his gun leveled at Barry. "Put your hands behind your head, now!" Ed could only watch as Barry had no choice but to comply. "Barry 'The Chopper' Barkowski, you are under arrest for the murder of Cain Leto and several others. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford one, one will be provided to you by the State of Amestris. Do you understand these rights as I have read them?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm under arrest…" Barry snapped at him in defeat.

"Good. Havoc, Breda, get him out of here," Mustang commanded and the two men that had suddenly appeared grabbed Barry and began dragging him away. "You okay, Fullmetal?"

"Tch…just fine. How did you find me?" Ed asked heatedly as Mustang holstered his gun.

"We followed our leads and they all led back to Barry Barkowski. He wasn't at home, and when Officers Ross and Brosh came forward saying they saw you abducted in a refrigeration truck, we called his boss and knew the man had stayed at work. So, we knew where to go. I'm just glad we got here in time."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Can you help me up?" Ed outstretched his hand and was pulled up by Mustang, who wiped his hand off from the blood. "Well…"

"I don't need any thanks for being a hero."

"I wasn't going to give you any, you jerk!"

"Why, you arrogant, little-"

"Sir, don't you have work to do?" Mustang looked to Hawkeye and nodded curtly. He gave another quick glare to Ed before walking away. Hawkeye gave a bemused smile before turning to Ed. "Thanks, Edward. We wouldn't have caught him without you."

"Sure…" Neither said anything for a moment until a thought hit Ed. "Mind if I sit in on the interrogation? I mean, he did try to kill me and all."

"No problem, though you might want to change first." Ed looked down at his clothes, dirt- and blood-ridden, and he scowled. "Don't worry about it; it'll take us time to process him for booking before Detective Mustang can even start the interrogation."

"Uh, there's only one problem with that," Ed said, causing Hawkeye to quirk an eyebrow, "My car's still at Liore."

"Of course," Hawkeye understood with a light smile. "That's no problem. I'll have Alex take you home and if you give me your key I'll send one of our uniformed officers to pick up your car and drive it back to the station. Alex!" Ed garbled out some words of thanks as the big, beefy man known as Alex strode over to them. Hawkeye seemed to give the man some instructions and moments later, Ed found himself in the front seat of the car, giving directions. His mind started diverting elsewhere in its still adrenaline fueled state. He had almost died because he had been so careless back in Liore. What would Winry and Al say to him?

"…okay?"

"Huh?"

"I asked if you were okay, Edward Elric," Alex responded and Ed nodded, himself not entirely sure if that was the correct answer. "Hmph…you know, I've heard so much about you."

"Y-you have?" That had certainly gotten his attention.

"Of course I have! How could I not hear about the young man making a name for himself at such a small age." Ed twitched at the use of the word "small" but said nothing. "What a shame it would be to the Armstrong family were we not to know."

"Armstrong?" Ed looked at the man's physique and started noticing similarities. "Wait, so Chief Armstrong at North is-"

"My big sis," Alex said with pride. "We Armstrongs have a gift and talent for leadership that has been passed down our line for generations!"

"I'm sure you do. Oh, just up here." Ed pointed to the small house in the countryside with all its lights on, and Armstrong pulled into the driveway. With haste, Ed stepped out. A few months working under Olivier Armstrong was enough…he didn't need any more time with her brother.

"I'll wait here for you, so please be quick," Armstrong told him and Ed waved a hand in understanding. He looked in his jacket pocket as was grateful to find that all his belongings were still there. He guessed that Barry felt there was no point in removing them if he was originally supposed to be dead. His key slid into the lock and he swept himself inside.

"Ed, is that you?" called Winry as she dashed into the hallway. "What the-"

"Brother!"

"Hey, it's not as bad as it-"

"You got blood on my automail! Do you know how long I worked on that?"

"Give it a rest, Winry," Ed snapped at her, causing his wife to glare at him. "Look, I'm exhausted, soaked in pig's blood and I've still got work to do. So, if you'll excuse me." He quickly pushed through his wife and brother who were crowding the hallway and worked his way up the stairs, his leg still sore from the impromptu automail installment he had performed. Once he was upstairs he quickly washed himself off and moved to the closet to change, disposing of his blood-soaked clothes in the trash, only to find Winry sitting on their bed. "Please, don't lecture me right now."

"Can't you tell me what happened?" Winry pleaded with him and Ed's hand froze in grabbing a shirt. "I knew you might be late, but covered in blood…"

"Sorry I worried you," Ed told her quietly, "but it's nothing. I just got into a little trouble."

"You big dummy!" Winry said with a frown as Ed finished changing. "I always worry about you. Ever since you were a little kid you've been getting into trouble. Sometimes I wish you'd stay out of it." Ed only laughed and kissed her on the forehead.

"Well, at least it gives you an excuse to do that automail checkup you've been hounding me about." Winry only looked at him, flabbergasted.

"I have _not_ been hounding you!"

"Just keep telling yourself that," Ed chortled as he left the room. "Hey, save some dinner for me. I have to run down to the station." A thrown wrench was the only response he got. "Love you too, Winry." With that, he left home and got back into the car with Armstrong. Half an hour later, they trudged into the station, Armstrong pointing him towards the interrogation room.

"Oh, Edward, you're just in time."

"Man, are you in for a treat," Havoc said with a smirk. Ed looked through the two-way mirror to see Barry sitting at the table, whistling a tune nonchalantly. "The boss is a beast in the interrogation room. I can't wait to see this."

"Uh, Detective Havoc, didn't you and Detective Breda say you'd help with logging the evidence?" the youngest detective of the team said and the older males cursed, leading the bespectacled man out of the room as Mustang entered into the interrogation room.

"Barry Barkowski…otherwise known as 'The Chopper'," he began, looking at a report in his hand.

"Hey, you guys gave me that name, not that I'm complaining."

"I'm sure. You do realize we have a lot of evidence against you."

"Do you?"

"Of course; synthetic hair, a recently repaired transmission, burlap sack, and let's not forget you attempted murder in front of five or six law enforcement eyewitnesses."

"Cause that stuff means everything in a courtroom."

"I'll make sure it sticks," Mustang told him with a smirk, and for a moment, Barry looked unsettled. "You're going down for this. I mean, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"What do you want me to say? 'I'm sorry, officer, I won't do it again!' Bullshit. Yeah, I killed those people. So, what of it? Killing is how I know I exist." Barry said with vehemence and Mustang looked partially intrigued through the glass.

"That's an…interesting philosophy, but I'm not here to discuss that. I just want to know, why? Why kill Cain Leto?" Barry stared at him, drumming his fingers on the table as he contemplated his next move.

"Ah, what the hell. I'm going down for this anyway. Why did I kill him? Why did I kill any of them? Kid was a pansy and his daddy was an arrogant dickhole. I would've done 'em both if I could. Is that a good enough confession for you?"

"It'll satisfy the jury at any rate…who knows, we may even be able to take you off death row."

"Golly gee, thanks," Barry simpered sarcastically. "All right, Cop-man, I answered your questions, so now you answer one of mine. How'd you find me?"

"You left a trail; a cohesive trail. The same card you used to fix the refrigerator truck transmission was also used to purchase materials for your little costume. Once we had a name, the rest was easy work. Your address was on file, but you weren't home. Since we knew from your data, and the truck, that you worked at the meat packing facility, we called your boss and learned that you were putting in hours on 'clean-up' duty. Finding you in the action was just the cherry on top. Then there's the cleaver. You know, even if you clean it, the DNA will never come off." Barry frowned before bursting out in laughter.

"Damn, you guys are good. Guess I should have been more careful in the East Area, huh?" Mustang didn't respond.

"One more question," Mustang said and Ed felt a chill as the Head Detective's hand moved for his gun. "Did you kill Maes Hughes?" Hawkeye stiffened next to a confused Ed, whose look Barry seemed to be emulating.

"Was he cut up?"

"No. He was shot near a telephone booth."

"Then it wasn't me. I only chop people." Mustang nodded and his hand moved into a more relaxed state. The entire room seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I see. Well, thank you for your confession, Barry. I'll see you at your trial."

"No prob," Barry answered with a manic smile. "Hey, do you think you can get Lady-cop to come by too?" Mustang paused at the door to the interrogation room.

"If you behave well, I'll see what I can do." And Mustang whipped out the door, prompting Hawkeye to try and follow him.

"Who's Maes Hughes?" Ed blurted out and Hawkeye halted, her back turned to him.

"He was a detective," she answered him. "He died…two years ago in the line of duty." With that, she left the room, and Ed to his thoughts.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: I love writing Barry. He was perhaps one of my favorite side characters in all of the manga. Now, I realize that this is Amestris and they likely don't have Miranda rights like we do in the US but I added them in there to give it slightly more believability. The plot is officially kicking off now (that's not to say this line was unimportant) and we now enter Hughes into the story. It's a real shame that I couldn't put him in, but this was always the idea for the story. Now, below I have a review reply to an anonymous reviewer. Just a quick note, I don't mind but I try to respond to all reviews with great content and that's easier through an account. Anyway, thank you for all the wonderful reviews last chapter and let's keep it going! Dare to Be Silly.<strong>

**Jay: There was only a day gap between the first and second chapter. The difference in attitude may perhaps come from the fact that the story starts on the anniversary of Hughes' death and so Mustang feels despondent. Thank you for your kind comments. I'm no big fan of AUs but I felt that this one was a fit, and it allowed me to keep the world and characters intact instead of breaking them down for the purposes of my own story. I'll continue to do my best and I hope I hear from you on this chapter.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Have you yet noticed the subtle difference in my usage of Roy Mustang's name throughout my story? Let me know if you have.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 5<span>

"What're you thinking about, boss?"

"Hmmm..." Mustang breathed in as he eyed his subordinate. "I'm thinking about that pile of cases on your desk that need solving."

"Lies."

"You asked," he quipped, much to the irritation of Havoc. "Hey, Hawkeye, did we make any progress on that jewelry store theft over in Youswell?"

"Nothing so far, sir," Hawkeye responded crisply and Mustang sighed, flipping his lighter one more time before shoving it in his pants' pocket.

"Somehow, I don't think we will."

"That's not like you to give up, sir."

"I'm not giving up," Mustang reminded her with agitation, tousling his hair. "I'm just not spending time on a case that will solve itself. I'm not too worried about it."

"Almost seems overly optimistic," Havoc remarked as he grabbed a case file from the stack on top of his desk. Mustang shrugged. "Oh, Breda, if only we had the crime-solving skills of our dear leader, then we could solve cases by just thinking about them."

Breda stood from his desk and whacked Havoc over the head. "That is how we solve cases, you dork." Havoc merely glared at his partner for the name-calling, though the burly man seemed entirely unaffected. "Anyway, I'm going to get a sandwich. Anyone want one?"

"Ooh, I'll come with you. I'm starved," Havoc announced, grabbing his coat as he stood.

"Then bring the case file so we can get cracking on it." Havoc sighed but reluctantly agreed as he and Breda left. Roy exhaled loudly, earning an upward glance from his ever industrious partner, who was busy scribbling away at things on her desk. After a minute of the scritching and scratching she laid her pen down to stare at Mustang intently.

"Sir, can I ask why you believe the Youswell case will solve itself?"

"Youswell's a pretty tight-knit community, right?" Mustang asked with a cocked eyebrow and Hawkeye nodded. "Well, you and I both know that in such a small community, it's very difficult for there to be any real thieves since the citizens would be onto them like locusts to honey."

"Just like back home," Riza commented and Roy could tell she was fondly remembering the day that Mustang had come to her hometown. He, himself, remembered with a scoff that it wasn't exactly the warmest of welcomes. "So, in essence, you're saying it was a local."

"Yeah, it'd be easier for a real thief to just steal some of the refined stuff from the mines there. Probably just some kids doing it on a dare. Give it a day or two and I bet the jewels will be returned with the most sincere apologies."

"I suppose…" Hawkeye agreed with a frown. "But if you're wrong, I'm throwing your ass on the fire instead of my own…sir," she added as an afterthought. Mustang could only laugh, and left it to the silent agreement that he'd gladly take the heat. Hawkeye went back to her work at her desk as he turned to the, once-again, ever-mounting stack of paperwork on his desk. He emitted another sigh and grabbed the papers on top and got to work.

He knew he should've been grateful that he had the time to work on the menial work like this, especially given that his hours practically forced him to work on Saturdays. That didn't change the fact that he still felt most of his work was pointless. He had gotten a thrill two days ago when they had caught The Chopper, but it hadn't panned out anywhere. In fact, for all the haste that the case had brought about, its conclusion only signified a return to normalcy. Normalcy, of course, being the tens or hundreds of other cases they had to work and the grueling paperwork that seemed to accompany them. Not that Roy didn't like normalcy, but when there had been a possibility that Hughes' killer had been in the room, even if it was only a slim one, letting go of that feeling was the most difficult thing in the world. His eyes narrowed as he thought about it, the ink on the pages blurring somewhat. Two years and not a single lead beyond what had originally been provided.

It made his lust for vengeance burn all the brighter. He knew that Riza wouldn't approve of those dark thoughts, but in all honesty, Roy could care less. He had made a promise to the late Hughes and he would make sure, one way or the other, that it was fulfilled. Roy scratched his head in frustration and then cringed when a glass-shattering voice called out.

"Yoo-hoo! Riza!" Roy didn't need to look to know who had just arrived at the station.

"Rebecca?" came Riza's completely astonished, and somewhat mortified, voice. Roy closed his eyes, as if doing so would make his wish that this was all a dream, a reality. That very hope was nullified in the next instant.

"Roy," she sniffed in greeting and Roy looked at her with something akin to a scowl.

"Catalina."

"Always the policeman, aren't you? Honestly, I don't know what Riza sees in you."

"Well, considering that _she_ has-"

"What are you doing here, Becky?" Riza asked and Roy got the message, slumping back down in his seat.

"Boss man's here," Rebecca told her, casually inspecting her fingernails. "Sheska's getting some files and I'm here because I want to be."

"In other words, you're still working desperately hard to get the whole anti-fraternization rule done away with."

"Every woman needs a man, Riza. You're proof of that." Roy made sure to ignore that last comment. "Preferably, someone who's rich."

"If by 'man' you mean Havoc, then I'll agree for you," Riza conceded, "but if you're looking for someone rich then I say keep looking."

"Oh, Riza, don't be like that!" she pouted loudly and Roy rolled his eyes. "But since you brought up the subject of Havoc, where is he?"

"Out to lunch with Breda."

"Hmm…that's a shame."

"Yes, it is a shame," Roy mumbled. "We won't get to see you act like some lovestruck schoolgirl around him."

"Just ignore him, Becky, he's in a bad mood."

"You _always_ use that excuse," Rebecca countered and Riza sighed. _Well_, Roy thought, _that's what you get when you have a friend who's such high maintenance._

"Wait a minute, if you're here…" Roy stroked his chin in thought. "What's Internal Affairs doing here?"

"Geez, you're slow. It took you that long-"

"Just answer the question already!" Rebecca opened her mouth to reply but was almost immediately interrupted.

"Mustang, my office," Grumman announced to the station, causing the head detective to scowl as he stood. Both Rebecca and Riza watched him go with a small modicum of interest as he stepped into the chief's office.

"Mustang."

"Fokker. What's IA doing here?" Fokker merely smiled at him. Unfortunately, it was a smile that made his hair stand on end. It wasn't that Fokker was an unpleasant man; in fact, he was probably the nicest man in all of Internal Affairs. He treated his subordinates well and was more or less impartial when it came to his reviews of others in the department. He was smart too, and was almost a lock for DA in Central a few years down the road. But he also had ambition to make it straight to that very position, and sometimes landing a high-positioned cop was the way he would do it.

"Is there somewhere we can talk privately?" Fokker asked Grumman and the chief cleared his throat.

"There's the conference room."

"Too open." Mustang grimaced. There went any hope that this was a friendly visit. "Don't want any prying eyes peering in."

"There's always the interrogation room, I guess…" Grumman, however, did not seem very pleased with the idea. Mustang wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment.

"We'll take it." The doors opened again at this moment and in walked a short, mousy woman with bushy brown hair and large framed glasses. "Ah, Sheska, back already?"

"Y-yes, sir," the girl, Sheska, replied timidly. "I finished pulling all the files on Detective Mustang that you had requested me to mem-"

"What?" Mustang blurted out uncontrollably and Fokker glanced momentarily at him as he grabbed the files. "I'm sorry, you're here for me?"

"Surprised?" Fokker asked and Mustang fumed silently. "Good work, Sheska. If you'll wait for me by the entrance, I shouldn't be too long. Oh, and grab that slouch that calls herself an Internal Affairs officer."

"Of course," Sheska replied, shifting her feet uncomfortably. "Uh, sir, since you'll take some time, I was wondering if I could visit a friend. He works here now."

"Sure, not a problem." Sheska bowed her head and quickly scurried from the room. "Shall we?" Fokker motioned out the door and Mustang left the room in a huff. His very demeanor seemed to practically silence the entire station as they watched their head detective leading the way to the interrogation rooms. Mustang's eyes briefly locked with Hawkeye's and she sat back in her chair, a concerned look on her face. Not long after, the two men had reached the interrogation room and entered it, Mustang sitting on one side of the table with Fokker on the other.

"Mind telling me why I'm here?" Mustang asked with vehemence as Fokker placed his documents down on the table.

"I heard you caught a high profile serial killer the other day." Mustang didn't say a word, folding his arms as a sign of protest. Fokker finished organizing his papers and looked to the surly detective. "Liore City DA, huh? Must've had some heat coming down on you."

"Should I take that terrible pun as a joke?" Fokker straightened his glasses. "Can we skip the formalities? Just tell me what IA wants with me."

"We've received formal complaints of harassment from several individuals."

"'Harassment'? You can't be-that's a load of crap!" The very idea was absurd, harassment indeed. If he harassed people, then it was because they needed to get their work done, and quickly. There was no time to be lollygagging around. "Look, just talk to my subordinates and they'll tell you."

"No, that's not it."

"Then how-"

"Head Detective Mustang, have you or have you not been asking multiple accused criminals about their potential involvement in the death of Detective Maes Hughes?" Mustang's glare tightened, but he refused to answer the question. "We've received several testimonies from various criminals that you've interrogated, concerning your inquiry into detective Hughes' death. As I understand it, you consistently ask whether they performed the deed themselves. Is this true?"

"Funny, I didn't know the department was accepting allegations against detectives from known criminals these days."

"Please answer the question."

"Yes, I have asked, on occasion, whether or not certain criminals were involved in Detective Hughes' death. But," he leaned forward and held up a finger for emphasis, "if you will look at each of those reports, you'll realize that the only criminals whom I have bothered to ask are those known to be serial killers. It follows as a logical assumption that as a serial killer, they may have also potentially killed a cop."

"You are aware that the investigation into Hughes' death was being handled by those at Central, correct?"

"I don't believe jurisdiction really matters in this case. Maes Hughes was killed here, in the Eastern part of Amestris. By all rights, it was our case. Just because Central has taken over the case does not mean that we do not still carry the responsibility to solve it and bring the killer to justice."

"Debatable, at best," Fokker informed him.

"What part of that could possibly be said to be debatable?"

"You went beyond your duty."

"As officers of the law, is it not all our responsibilities to go above and beyond the duty expected of a normal citizen?"

"That's not the point here, detective."

"Then, please, by all means tell me what the point is." Fokker stared at him for a moment before releasing a breath.

"As an officer of the law, you have various duties. Are you aware of these duties?"

"To apprehend those who are criminals and a danger to society; to perform our work efficiently; and to obey our superiors to ensure the stability of our State of Amestris."

"You have violated one of these," Fokker said with as little emotion as possible. "Your superiors determined that the case should be handed over to those at Central. By asking these questions of criminals, it gives the appearance that you are still actively working on this case. On top of that, it could potentially be construed as police brutality and may reflect poorly on the department as a whole."

"I'm sorry," Mustang said with a humorless laugh, "I wasn't aware my superiors or the department were in the practice of letting a killer walk free because it wasn't assigned to the detective who caught him."

"Be that as it may, there is still-"

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you were on a witch hunt right now. I really don't think there's anything to discuss. Someone killed Maes Hughes. That someone was never found and the case is still open. Whether the detectives in Central abandoned it or not isn't part of the question. I am free to search for the killer so long as my methods do not impinge on any practice of the law, or interfere with the current investigation, assuming there is one."

"You're quite well aware of our bylaws." Mustang only continued to emit a glare at him and Fokker sighed out of frustration. "In either case, I am not entirely satisfied that these allegations are not without merit. I'll have another look at your case files and I may return to interview some of your colleagues. I hope you won't mind."

"Not at all. The faster and more efficient your investigation is, the quicker you're out of my hair," Mustang explained to him. Fokker grunted in response and started putting all of his papers back together. "I'm sure that you will not find any more issue with my practices. Are we done?"

"Yes, you can leave." Mustang stood and immediately exited the room, back out into the brightened station. He saw Hawkeye sitting at her desk, typing quietly on her computer. Rebecca was nowhere in sight.

"How did it go?" she asked as he approached her. Mustang's brain struggled to think of a response that wasn't laced with poison.

"What's a synonym for the word 'frustrating'?" Mustang growled, skirting around her to sit at his desk. "They were asking me questions about Hughes' case. The thing's been active for two years, why should anyone care if I go poking around?"

"Maybe the people in Central decided to take another look at the case." Mustang stroked his chin at the thought. There was certainly no doubt that someone from Central had sent Internal Affairs after him for looking into Hughes' case. Well, it was that, or Fokker had come to stop him from looking into it too much on peril of his job. Either conclusion was disturbing, and not one he cared to entertain. But with another run through his hair, he determined that it was about time he did entertain it.

"Riza," he started and her eyes flicked briefly toward him, shocked at his use of her first name, "meet me at the pub down the street after work."

"I won't bother asking why. I'll be there." Mustang nodded at her as he stood and strode over to the corner where Armstrong was working furiously on a load of case files. He was still wearing his jacket, so Mustang assumed he must have just arrived back at the station.

"Alex, can I speak with you?"

"Detective Mustang!" Armstrong reacted with surprise at being pulled away from his work. "Is this about those complaints? I tried explaining-"

"No, I'm not here to talk about your shirt-ripping habits," he groaned. "Look, can you meet me at the pub after work?"

"I believe my schedule is free. What is this about?"

"Hughes." Armstrong murmured his acknowledgment as Mustang wheeled away from him and headed for the front of the station, where Rebecca was standing about lazily. "Nice to see you're getting work done, Rebecca. I'd almost mistake this entire visit for a social call otherwise."

"What do you want, Roy?"

"Did Fokker ever tell you his reason for coming to East?"

"Nope," she answered, popping the "p" at the end. "I don't think even Sheska knew and she's his loyal assistant, leastways until she came here she didn't know. Why? What's this about?"

"Nothing that concerns you."

"Stingy."

"Clingy."

"Wet match."

"Shut up and go home, already."

"Hey, I answered your questions, so you owe me a favor."

"I'll put in a good word for you with Havoc." His departure from the young woman put a complete stop to their conversation. Mustang quickly returned to his desk and began focusing his mind on the papers in front of him. A few minutes later, Fokker swept past him, a look of contempt clearly present on his face. Something was strange here, but he decided it'd be best to keep his actions under wraps until he had spoken with his fellow colleagues.

Breda and Havoc returned sometime in the late afternoon, but failed to notice, or at the very least comment, at the changed air around their boss. Both of them left for home soon after that. When the clock finally struck six, Riza announced she was going to get dinner and Roy kindly offered to take her. Moments later they found themselves joining Armstrong in a small, secluded booth at the pub.

"Fokker kept the reason for his visit to East a secret from his staff," Mustang informed the both of them and his two companions looked to one another. "The reason was to question me about my looking into Hughes' death."

"But why? We never found his killer, the case is still open," Armstrong protested loudly, though there was enough chatter in the establishment to prevent him from being heard.

"Except for the fact that it's not East's case anymore," Hawkeye reminded him, "Central took it over after the first month."

"I know, but that doesn't mean they can stop a detective from investigating suspicious characters."

"They shouldn't," Mustang agreed. He was about to continue when the server approached and the three ordered their drinks. As soon as she walked away, he continued. "That's what concerns me. Apparently, news of my individual investigation has pricked someone's ears in a way they normally shouldn't be pricked. The case wasn't solved but now they're harassing me just for looking into it? Something doesn't add up right." Hawkeye stared at him in reflection before giving her thoughts over to words.

"Are you saying someone blew the whistle?" Hawkeye asked in a fierce whisper. Mustang inclined his head toward her in response as their drinks were delivered. With a heavy breath, she blew her bangs up as she sat back. "Another cop…unbelievable…"

"It's impossible!" Armstrong countered. "How could we even think that of our fellow officers? No. People who choose this profession want to protect; why would any one of us kill our own?"

"It's not completely unheard of," Hawkeye informed him and Armstrong only stared at her in incredulous shock. "Before Commissioner Bradley took over, the department wasn't exactly the cleanest. I don't like the thought of it either, Alex, but…it does make some sense."

"I don't like it either," Mustang told them, "and I'm not saying it's even true. But this just roused my suspicions. The only reason someone would send IA after me is to stop me looking into it. It makes sense. By all rights, we were the best group of detectives on the block, even without Hughes as your partner, but even we couldn't catch the killer. If there's something else at play here then I can finally understand why: missing evidence, Central taking over the case. Personally, it all reeks of something foul."

"Then…what are we going to do about it?" Armstrong questioned.

"This situation can mean one of two things: someone from Central ordered Fokker to come here and not breathe a word about it, or Fokker himself made some trumped charge because he has some kind of stake in the whole affair. I really don't want to believe that people in the highest echelons of the department are behind this, so we'll have to look into the one we can, first: Fokker. I want to know everything. If I go poking around it's bound to raise some red flags, and at this point we need to tread lightly."

"I should be able to do that," Hawkeye stated. "I can do my research through the station at night; there should be something there. On top of that, it wouldn't look strange for me to stay late."

"All right. Just make sure we get everything we can. Where he was two years ago, what he's doing now. Family, friends, I don't even care if you get his eating habits. We need everything we can find, even if it has no relevance."

"I'll inquire with my parents. The Armstrong name has much influence in society. I should be able to put out feelers without arousing too much suspicion."

"Good." Mustang stood, leaving his drink abandoned. "Tread carefully, everyone. We'll meet again as soon as one of us has some information."

"Very well, sir."

"I hope that the both of you know what you're getting into. I'm asking you to put yourselves in danger, to potentially put your jobs on the line. Are you sure you want to continue following me?" Armstrong and Hawkeye shared a similar look before meeting his gaze.

"Sir, if you so asked it, we would follow you into the very depths of hell." Mustang smirked, but accepted the pledge of loyalty.

"Then make sure you tell no one of this investigation."

"Not even the rest of the team?"

"I don't want anyone else to be dragged into this until we're sure." Both gave a mumbled agreement as Mustang left them. He'd be lying to the both of them and himself if he said he wasn't worried about the storm that would come down from this. But he was ready, either way. This time he would catch the killer.

* * *

><p>Roy barely slept a wink that evening. The whole night his head had been filled with thoughts of Hughes and he constantly cursed himself for failing his best friend. When he awoke that morning he immediately went for his phone and found no messages waiting. Not that he really expected any: his team worked fast, but not that fast. With a groan upon his realization that it was Sunday morning, he changed his clothing and quickly made his way over to the station.<p>

Like every Sunday, the station was virtually empty, only a few detectives and other officers were on staff, making their rounds. Usually, even he took off on Sundays. But with his current investigation and the paperwork that was still mounting up before him, it more or less forced him to work without reprieve, He was surprised to find that Hawkeye wasn't at her desk when he sat down but decided to take it in stride and set himself to work.

Hawkeye, however, didn't show up the entire morning, even though he kept hoping that she would. This fact alone stymied his efforts to do any real efficient work. At times he even found himself wanting to make airplanes out of the poor pieces of paper, or otherwise glaring at it so vehemently that it might set on fire. When neither of these things really happened, he figured that it meant he _did_ have to, in fact, do his paperwork. He had only gotten through a little over half when he noticed a very disturbed Hawkeye stroll through the station. Mustang stood to greet her but she merely grabbed his collar and started dragging him down to the interrogation room.

"You look upset." She said nothing as she examined the room to make sure they were, in fact, alone. Or, at least, that was what Mustang presumed. "What did you find?"

"If Fokker's behind this then he's _very_ good at covering his tracks. I'll do a little more digging, but so far there's nothing there."

"Usually stuff like that doesn't upset you."

"I tried to find out why IA got called here, and you won't like the reason." He continued to look at her as a prompt for her to continue. "It turns out someone at East looked into the Hughes case, that's why a flag went up for it."

"Who?"

"Edward Elric."

"I'll kill him."

"Sir, I'm not entirely sure that's the best course of action."

"I don't care; he shouldn't have gone looking into an investigation he had no right looking into!"

"Well, going to Forensics isn't going to help. He's not here today," she informed him, preempting his attempt to leave.

"Then what's his address?" Hawkeye glared at him, but at this point he couldn't have cared less. His blood was boiling. "Never mind, I'll get it myself."

And Roy Mustang was true to his word. Only a quarter of an hour later and he was on his way to what he presumed was Edward's house, absentmindedly following the directions from his GPS. It wasn't long before he arrived outside a plain, two-storied house with an attached garage. It was somewhat surreal, knowing that a 20-year-old lived in such a place. He reached the door and knocked loudly. A sharp outcry of pain came from the house before a loud, "Don't worry, I'll get it." Then the door opened.

"Oh, Mr. Mustang. Car giving you problems again?" Roy stood there, completely dumbstruck at the sight of the woman (somewhat scantily clad, if he thought about it) that was standing before him.

"You're…Winry, right?" he said slowly, trying to recover in the opposite fashion. "Sorry, I must have the wrong house. I'm looking for an Edward Elric."

"Then come on in. Ed and I were just finishing up in the other room."

"Wait, what? I'm sorry, Edward's here?"

"Of course he is-he's my husband," Winry chided him for not remembering. "I'm Winry Elric."

"I didn't-"

"Hey, Ed, you've got a visitor!"

"That's great, now can you get me my pants since you threw them so unceremoniously."

"Oh, don't be a baby."

"You're the one who didn't warn me before you reconnected the nerves." The bickering continued as Winry ran back to where Edward was. Roy was still in shock over the connection between the two people as he stepped into the house. There were pictures lined all along the halls: pictures of kids fishing, three kids hanging out by a tree, and a picture that showed a slightly younger Edward smiling brightly in a tuxedo, the lovely Winry positively beaming in her wedding dress. "Oh, it's you." Roy turned to look at Ed, who was buttoning up his shirt, and scowled.

"I wouldn't be here if you didn't make it necessary."

"What did I do?"

"You looked into the Hughes murder investigation!"

"So what if I did?"

"You had no right-"

"I'm a Forensics Specialist. I had every right."

"Do you realize what you've brought down on me? Now I've got IA sniffing up my ass!"

"Because I looked at a case file? Please!"

"Listen, you-" Mustang was ready to grab hold of Edward when Winry entered the hall.

"Will you be staying for dinner, Mr. Mustang?"

"No, he won't," Edward answered her through clenched teeth. "In fact, I was just about to see him out." He quickly pushed Mustang back and the Head Detective got the hint, backing out to the front porch as Edward closed the door behind him. "Yes, I looked at the case file. I was interested."

"Well, your 'interest' had someone sending the hounds after me."

"And you're trying to figure out just who that someone is, is that it?"

"Yes, I am, no thanks to you," Mustang snapped at him. "You have a tendency to interfere and get nothing, don't you _Fullmetal_."

"Actually, I did get something." Edward smirked at him and Roy found his face being etched into an even deeper scowl. "You probably wouldn't have noticed it, since it was added after the case was taken from you, but there was a name attached to the file."

"And what name would that be?"

"Homunculus."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: As you may be able to tell, this story is now starting to move forward at an accelerating speed. Before any of you assume, there is a meaning behind Homunculus here but it is NOT the same as the one in the series. Just remember that this is an AU, a world where alchemy does not exist and thus there is an entirely different meaning behind this word. Also, for those of you who may be confused as to who Fokker is, he was a character appearing around the time of Chapter 1516 in the manga and appeared to be Sheska's boss after Hughes died. Envy impersonated him once. That's all I can really tell you, look him up if you don't remember. One more note, I find it interesting that the chapters with Ed seem to get less reviews. The response last time was…less than favorable. I really do enjoy getting reviews and getting feedback on the story. Without them, I can't know how my plot is going or, more importantly, my characterization. So I'd really appreciate lots of reviews this time. So, please review and Dare to Be Silly.**


	6. Chapter 6

**I'm starting to think I should make a list of all my canon references for fun, but what do you guys think?**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist. Naturally, the copyright on that belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 6<span>

Ed would've been lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy the way Mustang's face tightened at his words. It was only slight, but he could tell the Head Detective was shocked at this piece of news. Sure, he had only known the man for six days, but Ed knew enough to be able to distinguish between cold smugness and surprise.

"No, that's impossible," Mustang hissed at him. Ed shrugged his shoulders.

"I really don't care if you believe me or not," the young man told him indifferently.

"You're telling me that one of the most powerful corporations in the country had something to do with Hughes' death?" Mustang's eyes narrowed and Ed found himself emulating the man. "I call bullshit."

"I'm just telling you what I found."

"And _I_ am telling you I don't believe it."

"So, you're letting a potential lead slip through your fingers 'cause you don't believe it. Great detective work there, yeah, I can see why it took you so long to even get this far."

"I'm saying that I don't trust any lead given to me by a kid." Ed's chest puffed out, filled with indignation at being called a kid. He was twenty-years old! He had graduated college!

"Well, this _kid_ just found something that you managed to overlook for two years." Mustang looked ready to strangle him for his below-the-belt insults. "Let's face it, Detective, we both know you'll give it a few hours of thought and then come to the same conclusion that it needs to be looked into. So let's just move past that and-"

"And what? In case you've forgotten, Fullmetal, your little stint as a detective resulted in my tussle with Internal Affairs."

"I have a name, you know…" Ed mumbled before continuing with his defense. "And that's technically your fault. I looked at the file under my ID so if they sent someone after you, it means _you're_ a threat to them, not me." Mustang took a step back and seemed to consider this for a moment. Ed folded his arms in defiance of the anticipated response.

"Say you're right then…and I'm not saying you are," Mustang said, breathing loudly as he prepared his words, "then this suggests that the Homunculus Corporation is involved in some pretty nasty stuff."

"Hey, I'm not saying they had anything to do with that at all," Ed stated while he unfurled his arms. "For all I know they might have figured it was better to spend a little extra cash and have a private investigator look into it so that other cases wouldn't fall by the wayside."

"That's a ridiculous practice."

"That's Central. They get more cases than anyone else, so sometimes they have to push them off."

"Homunculus Corporation doesn't exactly seem like the private investigator type."

"Looks can be deceiving. Besides, who knows _what_ Homunculus Corp truly is?" Ed scoffed loudly. "No one really knows. All we know is that they're the biggest corporation in Amestris."

"I'm surprised you're so well informed about them, being so young."

"Had to be. They specialize in everything and nothing at the same time: medicine, weapons for the state, uniforms, foods, you name it. They have no real defining quality to them. My brother wanted to do an internship there, so I looked into it. Didn't like it very much. They certainly seemed an unsavory bunch." Ed flipped his ponytail in slight annoyance. "If they're involved though, I have a feeling it might be pretty shady."

"Then who's to say they haven't covered their tracks?" Mustang snapped at him with a slightly triumphant smirk. "You're just running me in circles here."

"You're right. They probably have covered their tracks entirely. But," Ed smiled a wicked grin at him, "I have some sources. They might not know everything about what Homunculus Corp is up to, but I think he could share some good information with me."

"Then give me his name and I'll look into it," Mustang told him expectantly. Ed frowned, knowing that the detective wouldn't like his next words.

"Yeah, I don't think so. There's no way someone like him would talk to you, trust me."

"So, we're just back to where we started," Mustang huffed. "Look, if you wanted to jerk me around, you should have just said so."

"If you'd let me finish…he wouldn't meet with you normally. If I were to go with you, though…" Ed let the offer hang in the air for consideration and watched as Mustang gave it careful thought. A moment later, the head detective voiced his answer.

"Where is he, and when do we leave?" Ed smirked again. He knew that the man didn't really trust him, but Ed was intrigued by the case, and it gave him a chance to visit an old…well, he wasn't quite sure if the man was a friend.

"We'll leave Tuesday morning," Ed told him. "I'll drive. He's over in the town of Dublith so it's a bit of a drive. On top of that, the only time I know for sure that he's available is the early afternoons, for lunch. He's a pretty busy guy. That's why we need to leave in the morning, waste no time. So, take care of whatever you need to tomorrow."

"Fine," Mustang responded curtly. "You'd better hope this pans out."

"It will."

"And if you're wrong-"

"I'm not."

"If you are, I will burn you so hard, there won't even be a corpse left."

"Duly noted," Ed said sardonically. "But let's be fair, Detective, you need me. Without me you'd have never caught The Chopper. On top of that, I found something you overlooked for two years. You…need…me." Mustang's lips pursed in what Ed supposed was defiance.

"We'll see." With those words he began to walk back to his car. "You should be able to find my address in the police database; pick me up there." Those were the last few words spoken between them as Ed went back into his house, rubbing his leg. He tried not to show it in front of the prick…dick…detective, but his leg had ached ever since Winry so forcefully connected his nerves. The smell of pot roast simmered through the house and Ed found himself inexorably drawn to the kitchen. Boy, was he glad Winry had started on dinner earlier.

"Damn, Winry, that thing's huge!"

"I wanted leftovers."

"With four of us? Not likely," Ed jeered and Winry put her hands on her hips.

"Al called while you were out of the house. He and Mei are working late tonight, so it's just the two of us. Hence, it has now become leftovers."

"So, we can pick up where we left off?" he asked devilishly as he grabbed her. She merely smirked up at him as she pushed him away and went back to the oven. "Playing hard-to-get, are we?"

"Stop saying things like that, it's embarrassing, mostly for yourself," Winry scolded, checking the timer on the oven. "You'll just have to wait until later, Ed; though goodness knows I never thought you were so excited for an automail tune-up until today."

"Well, we _were_ alone," Ed grumbled, still not pleased with interruption. "Which reminds me, how on earth do you know Mustang?"

"Hmm? He stopped by the shop a few days ago with a flat tire. Of course, I had no idea you actually knew him. When he said he was Head Detective, I wasn't quite sure you could actually reach his level," she said to Ed with a playful smirk.

"Are you making fun of my height?"

"Never dreamed of it." Her eyes sparkled when she finished saying this, pulling the pot roast out of the oven to cool. "Now, Ed, remind me. Where exactly were we?" A few hours later found the young married couple lying in bed, thoroughly exhausted, but very pleased with one another.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. I'll be leaving Tuesday morning. I probably won't be back until Wednesday night, maybe Thursday."

"So you tell me now, after a romp in the sheets? Great job, Ed," Winry deadpanned, but her face was still flushed and Ed knew she didn't really care: she was happy he had at least told her. "Wednesday night's not bad, though."

"Better than a week." Winry murmured her assent before turning over and falling straight to sleep. Ed wrapped his arms around her and smiled. He was happy. For him, this was enough.

* * *

><p>The following morning was a mess of tangled sheets, more heated passion, and an eventual dash to work, not helped by Winry giving him a sultry kiss as he left. He had to remind himself to tell Al to work late more often. Turning his thoughts to the day ahead, however, Ed found himself getting more excited than normally. It had been quite a time since he had traveled to the southern part of Amestris. He was looking forward to passing by all the old haunts he had inhabited as a teenager. He knew that essentially the trip was one of business, but it didn't mean he could just ignore all the inhabitants of Dublith like he never knew them. Likely that wouldn't sit well with the Head Detective, but if he gave it some thought, he was willing to not care about the older man's wants.<p>

Edward's remaining day was laden with the usual things. He informed Doctor Marcoh he'd be off the next day at the very least and likely wouldn't be back for a few more days on account of working a long distance case with Mustang. Marcoh allowed it, so long as Ed managed to get his paperwork done for the next few days. Ed truly didn't mind; especially if that was all he had to do in order to take his time off. East PD was by far the most lax of the department branches and for that he was very grateful. Of course, his need to get his paperwork done often brought him in the near proximity of the Head Detective, but thankfully the two had no close encounters and managed to avoid each other's wraths by the time that the end of the day rolled around. With all his work completed, Ed returned home and started to pack up. He informed Al of his travel intentions and all Al could do was give him a lopsided, fear-riddled grin and an ominous:

"Don't forget to say hi to Teacher." Ed's body repressed a shudder at that. Winry then helped him to finish packing before the two turned in for the night. It was to both his excitement and lethargy that Ed awoke at the near crack of dawn and loaded his things into his car. Roughly half an hour later he picked up an equally lethargic Roy Mustang and the two began their silent drive to Dublith.

"It's a long drive, just so you know. About six hours on country roads; hope you brought something to do." But Mustang refused to say anything, and Ed was fine with that response. They pulled over in a small town to get gas and stretch their legs before starting on the road again some time around nine in the morning. Then they resumed their road trip in silence, until Roy finally spoke, much to Ed's surprise.

"You've got an automail leg," he mumbled out. It wasn't a question. He said it as though it were a recollection of the fact. Ed tensed his body at the words. He _really_ didn't like being reminded of the obvious.

"So what if I do? Is that a problem?" Ed asked with a glare at the steering wheel in front of him, as though it was the one that had paid him the affront. Roy seemed to shrug with indifference beside him.

"Not really. I've never really seen a lot of automail before, that's all."

"You find a lot of it in South and North thanks to the climates and the skirmishes breaking out near Aerugo."

"Huh, never took you for a fan of automail history."

"I'm not a fan!" Ed protested angrily and Roy couldn't help but look at him in surprise. "I only know so much because Winry drilled it into my mind. Honestly, I'd be happier without it but it makes Winry happy, so…"

"Quite the whirlwind romance you have there."

"Not quite as whirlwind as you'd think," Ed muttered while Roy proceeded forward with his comment.

"I mean, I'm in my thirties and I'm not even in a solid relationship that isn't professional and here you are at twenty and married for two years. Next, I'll find out your wife is pregnant."

"Don't even joke about that. There's no way the two of us are ready to have a kid," Ed moaned loudly. "Besides, I'm lucky the two of us are even married. We had some problems for a few years."

"Not surprising. When I found out she was your wife, my first thought was 'How could a cute girl like her fall in love with a loud-mouthed brat like him?'"

"I don't remember asking for your opinion."

"Anyone would think the same thing." Ed found himself mocking the detective in his head and his hands tightened unnecessarily around the steering wheel.

"What about you and Detective Hawkeye then?"

"Purely professional."

"And I'm the Commissioner. Even a dumbass could see there's something between you two. So what is it? Old flame? Oh, is she like a childhood sweetheart?"

"Shut up!" For the first time since he had met Roy Mustang, he actually thought he had gone too far. He could practically see the vein pulsing in his forehead and the man's face had such tightened lines on it, Ed was sure that he was about to burst. Whether or not he had struck a nerve, he wasn't sure. But he was very sure that he shouldn't push the man beyond his boundaries.

"See, I knew there was something." Well…he had to say at least one more antagonizing thing.

"So, you're implying that you're a dumbass, huh? I guess the title fits."

"Hey, that was unnecessary!" But Ed didn't say anything more than that. He didn't want to give any more fuel for the detective to put on the fire. A small lapse of conversation persisted between the two for a moment.

"How did it happen? If you don't mind me asking," Roy said quietly and Ed considered not answering him for a moment simply out of spite.

"Long story."

"Long drive."

"Well then…where do I start?" Ed said, thinking things over. "I guess, first you should understand that that bastard was never around. He always had some important function to attend to or some such nonsense. Don't know what mom ever saw in him, though I doubt it matters much now. Point is, _Hohenheim_ was never around." He had spat the name with such venom that even Roy seemed to recoil from it. Until, of course, he recognized the name.

"Hohenheim…You mean Van Hohenheim, the president of the University of Amestris?"

"Hohenheim, bastard, 'father'…I can come up with more names for him that mean the same thing." Roy gave a low whistle, which caused Ed to grimace. "Anyway, so he was never around really, which meant that mom did pretty much everything on her own. One day, there was a huge storm in Resembool. I was ten at the time; my little brother was only nine. Lightning struck pretty close to our house and hit a tree near it. It was a pretty old tree so it fell right over and slammed into our house, right where we were sitting. I don't really remember much, other than trying to protect Al." He swallowed hard and once more found himself clenching the steering wheel of his car with the iron-grip-of-death.

"When I woke up, I remember mom's body on top of me. She had thrown herself in front of us and had paid for it. Meanwhile, I just got a tree branch impaled in my left leg. The Rockbells came for us and pulled me and Al out of there. I was real pathetic for a while, thinking about mom's death and blaming myself for it until Winry got me to come around and made me this leg. I can't say I'm completely over mom's death; but I'm glad to be walking around on my own two feet again, even if one of them is artificial."

"Sounds…rough…" Roy commented and Ed made a guttural noise of agreement. "Is that why you went into Forensics?"

"Nah, I had other reasons…but it was why Al went into medicinal sciences. Call it a childish dream to save the dying, if you will." Ed laughed mirthlessly. "So what about this Hughes guy? You seem pretty stuck on his death. Any story there?"

"Edward, you may have had ten years to get over the death of your mother and the loss of your leg. But two years is far too short a time to heal the wounds caused by losing a brother of the soul. I hope you can understand."

"Yeah, just thought I'd ask. It's all right if you don't want to tell." Roy grunted and said nothing more. After that, the remainder of their car ride seemed to pass in a relative hush. There was really nothing more to say on either of the subjects. Ed didn't want to push the other man for any more details. He almost laughed to himself thinking about it: the two of them always looked ready to slit the other's throat, but when it came down to it, they were so similar it was truly laughable, if not slightly eerie. They had both lost people very close to them and were still carrying that pain. Ed truly considered himself lucky, though, considering the state of the head detective. He had had ten years to realize that the whole situation wasn't his fault. Ten years to find closure and stand again. He also had Al, who wanted so hard to save the dying, even if he couldn't bring back the dead. Together, the two brothers had gone through the same thing and were able to inspire the other to get out of that rut in their minds. Of course, Winry was a hugely important factor. She knew loss herself, and while it had pained Ed to lose Aunt and Uncle Rockbell, nothing could dull the pain of losing both of your parents in such a vicious way.

Thinking back to the man, he realized that Roy was entirely swamped in that death. Two years was a short time but, like Ed himself, the head detective seemed the type to not ask anyone for help unless it was necessary. Sure, the man felt pain and grief, but there was something else to him that Ed wasn't sure he had ever felt. Something that made Roy burn like a dark fire. In some way, he didn't care; in another, he hoped that he would never have to.

"We're here," Ed announced. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was around noon. They had made pretty good time on their drive, and Ed felt there was a real chance at meeting with his contact. He saw Mustang glancing around the city and Ed found himself doing the same. It had been quite a few years since he had been to the town, but it was nice to see that Dublith hadn't changed in the slightest. Just like always, Dublith had its two predefined areas: residential and commercial. While Ed had spent most of his time in the residential area, he and Al had strayed enough to the commercial area to know its establishments pretty well. The thing that made Dublith, unique, however, was its broad expanse of alleyways that sprawled across the commercial half of the city like a gigantic spider web. Yet even with those alleys, business in the city wasn't too shady, as most of the underground network was controlled by one man.

"Are you sure we should just park in front of someone's house like this? Won't they think we're trespassing?" Roy asked and Ed laughed as he turned the car off, stepping into the dry heat of Dublith.

"I know the owners,' Ed assured him. "They'll be fine with it…I hope." Roy looked exasperated and Ed wasn't even quite sure if he had convinced himself, but there was nothing to be done about it. He just flashed a lazy smile and pocketed his car keys.

"Edward! Mister Edward, is that you?" cried a feminine voice and Ed looked to see a young teenager practically bouncing toward him.

"Hey, Menny, what's up?"

"You should know better than to park in front of the Curtis' house!" the girl, Menny, pouted at him and Ed chuckled, ruffling the hair on her head.

"So, they're in town, huh?"

"Just got back yesterday from their visit out west."

"Damn, I was hoping I wouldn't have to run into them. Ah well, I'd get chewed out no matter where I parked," Ed mumbled aloud and Menny giggled. "Hey, don't go laughing at me. Do you know where the two of them are?"

"Sig's over at the shop. I was heading over there to help him and Mason out. By the way, you want to see my new cat?" Ed fixed his face into one of revulsion and glared at the girl who smiled innocently at him. "I'm just kidding. I know that Al likes cats more."

"A little too much, personally. Anyway, I've got some work to do, so I'll talk to you later Menny, okay?"

"Okay!" she said in a high chirp before she went skipping off. Ed motioned for Mustang to follow him as he angled for the back alleyways.

"Who are the Curtises?" he asked lightly.

"Married couple. They're pretty much some of the most prominent people in Dublith. They own and operate the butcher shop in town so everyone knows them really well."

"And that girl…?"

"Menny. She used to hang around me and Al when we were in town. Must be fourteen or fifteen by now," Ed informed him and Roy seemed to nod his head in comprehension. "Izumi, that's the wife, is like the light side of the town. Lots of people respect her immensely, and the mayor of the town would be hard-pressed to get anything done without her approval. However, today we're gonna make a visit to the dark side."

"The dark side…?" Ed suddenly stopped short and turned to look at Mustang, who was busy glancing at him in confusion.

"All right, Mustang, you need to understand one thing before we enter the Devil's Nest: you're not a cop."

"But I _am_ a cop."

"Then you're not on duty," Ed insisted. "They won't talk to you if they think you'll turn them in, even if I'm with you." Mustang seemed to debate Ed's words in his head before he nodded slowly, hesitantly even, in acceptance, giving Ed the chance to breathe in relief.

"Lead the way, then." Ed turned back towards the small door in the middle of the alleyway, a sign with the words "Devil's Nest" hanging over it. As the two men approached the door, loud noises could be heard from inside. "What's going on in there?"

"Oh, I have a pretty good idea." With a slight hesitation in his hand, Ed pushed the door open.

"Come on, little lady, I'm asking nicely this time!"

"Not in a million years, you pathetic letch."

"Geez, Ulchi, you'd think after the first hundred times you'd get the hint-waugh!" Ed finally stepped into the dimly lit room and saw the scene sprawled out before him. A dark haired woman stood in the center of the room, towering over the men who were cowering underneath her.

"I need to see your boss!"

"He's-he's not in!" _WHAM!_

"Don't lie to me! I know he's pumping drugs into the Dublith school system, and if it doesn't stop I'll have more than words with him." A loud thud resulted as the woman dropped the man she was holding and dusted her hands off. Ed tensed as the woman turned towards him and a look of recognition passed over her face.

"H-hello, T-teacher," Ed stuttered out nervously as the woman stalked over to him. Suddenly, a soft, almost motherly smile pasted itself onto her face.

"Ed, I didn't expect to see you in Dublith, or even at all," she said, crossing her arms. Ed smiled weakly. "But it's good to see you." She held out her hand and Ed clasped it, realizing his mistake a moment later as he was suddenly flipped onto his back.

"Ow!" And that was the reason he feared the woman named Izumi Curtis.

"You've been slacking, Ed! What? Did the summer heat get to you?"

"Shouldn't you be resting, Teacher. Menny told me you just got back."

"I'm fine!" she insisted. "Besides the doctor says I'm doing a lot better." Ed finally stood up and rubbed his back lightly. "Oh, who's this?"

"Just a co-worker."

"Tch."

"So, what's this about drugs?" Ed asked, hoping to move the subject away from him.

"Nothing. The bigger question is: why are you here?"

"Do I need a reason to visit you? I mean, you were my advisor for over three years."

"You think I would fall for that, you little whelp?"

"I-I'm not little."

"What was that?"

"N-nothing, Teacher." Izumi ruffled Ed's hair (to his annoyance) as she moved towards the exit from the bar.

"Stop by later, okay." She disappeared through the door and Ed heard Mustang snicker behind him.

"Quite a character."

"You don't know the half of it…" Ed uttered with a tremor down his body before turning to the other occupants of the room. "Hey guys, I need to see your boss."

"In the backroom, as usual kid," said one of the smaller occupants of the room. Ed didn't make any sign of acknowledgement, instead moving straight for the backroom. He led the two of them down a narrow corridor and into another door at the end of the hall.

"So, Greed, I hear you're pumping drugs into Dublith's schools. Izumi wasn't too happy," Ed yelled loudly, demanding the attention of the four people in the room. The man in the middle, Greed, sat back in his chair with a relaxed smirk on his face.

"Is that so? Dorchet, make sure we get the drugs out of there. I _really_ don't want to deal with Izumi. Besides, I don't like fighting women, either." Another man next to him with short cut-brown hair gave him a sign of understanding and left the room, allowing Ed to take a closer look at Greed. As usual, he was dressed in a black silk suit, giving the impression of a man who was very lucrative in his field. His dark shirt that sat underneath his suit also emanated his far-reaching influence and power. A pair of sunglasses sat to the side of his folded hands and the grin on his face revealed his fairly pointed teeth. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Edward?"

"I've got some questions to ask you," Ed said, his face impassive. He had learned long ago not to let his emotions get the better of him around Greed.

"Don't you always? Who's the chump?" Greed questioned.

"Roy Mustang."

"Search him, Roa." A large and burly man frisked Mustang and came up with the detective's weapon. "Really, Edward, you forgot to tell him."

"Sorry, slipped my mind."

"Well, we'll just hold onto it for now. Other than that, you're with Mr. Fullmetal here so it's fine with me…even if you are a cop."

"How could you tell?" Mustang asked, his eyes narrowed into slits.

"General demeanor, not to mention the fact that you work with Edward."

"So you _do _keep tabs on me!" Ed shouted indignantly and Greed shrugged lazily.

"You use my underground contacts around Amestris, only fair that I see what you're up to. You know…don't let anything slip." The threat hung in the air before Mustang cleared his throat.

"What kind of business do you run here exactly?" Mustang inquired warily and Greed cocked an eyebrow at him, surveying him for a moment to determine his answer.

"Surely you've heard of us: the Ouroboros Gang." Mustang seemed to go into shock and Ed instantly moved in to head any danger off.

"Yes, Greed is the leader of the Ouroboros Gang, the most prevalent gang in Amestris. But he's not a bad guy, really."

"Elric…" Mustang warned him, but his warning was cut off by a simpering laugh.

"Go ahead and arrest me, though I doubt you could. Even if you did, the charges wouldn't stick. I've never been accused of any crimes."

"You mean you haven't been _proven_ to be guilty of any crimes. But I'm more than willing to think you've been involved in some dark and dirty business…" Ed glanced between the two older men as they entered into a standoff. "However, I'm willing to let it slide if you can help us like Fullmetal here has suggested. I've seen no proof of your alleged criminal activities."

"You're too kind. What do you need to know?"

"Do you know about Maes Hughes?" Ed rolled his eyes. Of course that would be the first thing out of Mustang's mouth.

"Never heard of him."

"How do I know you're not lying and you're the one who murdered him?" Greed sat up in his chair, flicking his coattails out, his mouth a thin line and his previous cockiness gone.

"One, I make it a point to never lie. Two, I don't murder people who find me out. It's too dirty and leaves too many trails. Much easier to just bring them into the fold."

"Like a cop, or anyone else for that matter, who finds out who you are would so easily go over to your side," Mustang scoffed with disgust.

"Nothing's impossible when it comes to the human mind." Greed scratched the back of his head and chuckled a little. "Is that it? I was expecting more out of you, Edward."

"What do you know about Homunculus Corporation?" Ed asked quietly and the atmosphere in the room quickly changed. Greed ordered the woman next to him, named Martel, to silently check the hall beyond them before she closed the door.

"Why do you ask about that?" Greed asked, his tone completely changed from the lightness it carried before.

"Their name was attached to the Hughes' case file. Do they provide some kind of private investigating work, or something else like that?" Greed regarded Ed for a moment before he burst out laughing. When the maniacal haze of laughter subsided, Greed glanced at the two of them with a very serious look on his face.

"The first thing you need to understand is that Homunculus Corp would never do any 'private investigating'. If someone contacted them to get a job done, it was likely some kind of weapons deal or an assassination. These people are dirty, far dirtier than us, and they'll stop at nothing."

"How do you know so much about them?" Mustang asked and Ed could tell the detective didn't believe the man whatsoever.

"I used to work for them, about ten years ago," Greed told them casually. "Even back then, they had some nasty plans. I mean, it was all well and good until they had to start killing people to shut them up. I wanted none of that, so I left them. In other words, you could say that the Ouroboros Gang is like Homunculus Corp for children. Whereas we just run guns and drugs, they manufacture them under the guise of a legitimate business. When someone discovers us, we recruit them…or at least befriend them, Edward being a case in point. Homunculus Corp kills. Like I said, they're dirty."

"So you're telling me that the most powerful country in all of Amestris is actually a shadow corporation who deals in criminal acts. Impossible."

"As I told you, nothing is impossible. They're very dark, and very good. The only reason I've stayed alive so long after escaping them is because I kept my mouth shut. If you think we're bad, they're worse. Face it, there's a whole world of shadows that hides things that even you cops can never know. You can thank your Commissioner Bradley for that, driving us all back into the shadows."

"Do you know who leads them, then?" Ed pondered, hoping for a good answer.

"Not a clue. Even if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. I'm not stupid." Greed drummed his fingers on the desk in thought. "But why do you care so much?"

"We told you. Homunculus Corp was attached to the case-"

"But why go digging now?" Mustang cleared his throat and prepared to answer.

"Internal Affairs started questioning my investigation into Hughes' death."

"So they brought out the dogs to play…oh dear," Greed mused to himself and his entire face seemed to cycle through a series of emotions.

"What do you mean by that?" Ed asked concernedly.

"It means they're planning something. Something big. And they need to know if you're a threat or not." Greed sighed in a tone of defeat. "I always suspected they had allies in the police, though I never knew how far. It would make things easier for them to have someone high up though. Likelihood is," Greed turned his attention to Mustang, "your friend Hughes figured it out and they killed him for it, but I can't be sure. All I know is, they're ready to take action and you're in the thick of it."

Greed suddenly stood, patting down his suit as Martel handed him his sunglasses and Roa put Mustang's gun on the table. "Well, if that's all, I have a meeting I need to get to. I'll look into this Hughes with my contacts and I'll get back to you if I find anything. I trust you can show yourselves out." With that, Greed left the room, a look of worry still present on his face.

"Well, that was super helpful," Ed replied sarcastically.

"It was. Greed's words were very helpful, albeit cryptic. It looks like your lead may have panned out after all," Mustang informed him and Ed couldn't bring himself to respond to that. "Still, don't tell anyone you shouldn't. We should keep it close to our chest until we're sure about the truth in his words."

"Yeah…" Ed agreed, pausing for a moment. "Come on, we should go." The two men quickly backtracked and found themselves on their way back to the Curtis'. Ed mentioned that they should stay the night in the hopes of not driving another six hours, and Mustang thankfully agreed. It seemed the trip hadn't been entirely wasted, and Ed was grateful as he strolled up the path to the house, knocking on the door. A large beefy man answered, grunting in his greeting as he stepped aside to let the two through. Ed slipped inside the house and froze. "No…no way…"

"Hello, Edward, this is a surprise." Ed's fists clenched as he surveyed the calm man, his stomach feeling like it had dropped out.

"What are _you_ doing here Hohenheim?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Another long chapter here, but one that provides you all with a plethora of information. I know many of you thought the Homunculi were part of a gang or some such but here they're not. I did make one of them as part of a gang though, as you could see here. How this will play out down the road, you'll see later. Most of Ed's past story is now revealed, different than how most people write it, but I didn't want it to be the same. In either case, the story is moving ahead at a strong pace so, be sure to stay tuned. I'm attempting to update every week up until Chapter 11, then every two weeks. In this way, I'll finish before the year is out. But, damn, this chapter took a lot of editing to get right. <strong>

**Anyway, thanks for all your previous reviews, in particular to Caffeinated Star for some wonderful criticisms that I actually took into account for this chapter to make it better for all of you. I hope to hear from all of you again and more in the future. So, stay tuned, review, and Dare to Be Silly.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Oh, Izumi, how you crush our souls…and could very literally crush our bodies to smithereens. Oh well, Chapter 7 starts now.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist and this is the last time I'll be saying so. It's pretty much obvious by now.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 7<span>

"So, you're a detective, Mr. Mustang?"

"Erm, yes…" Roy answered and Edward's father, no, Hohenheim smiled at him kindly. He wasn't entirely sure how he found himself in this situation. One moment, the two of them were entering the house and the next thing the detective could remember was answering the man's questions next to a very miffed and surly Edward. Although, he couldn't exactly see why the young man hated Hohenheim so much. For all intents and purposes, Hohenheim seemed to be a nice man, though his voice suggested he might not have been all there.

"What are you doing here, old man?" Edward snapped out and Roy just sat there, unsure what to make of the boiling anger next to him.

"Edward, is that any way to speak to your father?" Hohenheim said with a slight frown, bringing his cup of tea to his lips. Edward's eyes glared daggers at the man.

"You're not my father!" he yelled, but Hohenheim seemed entirely unfazed by his own son's reaction. "You were never around! You have no right to call yourself our father!"

"Is this normal?" Roy whispered to the older woman behind him and Izumi only gave a mirthless laugh. He wasn't sure he'd get a straight answer out of anyone here until Izumi ceased her chuckling.

"Can't say I've ever heard or seen it firsthand, despite the years I've known both of them," Izumi told him, her eyes flashing dangerously. "Although, rumor at South University had it that whenever the President would visit his son, the rooms would shake."

"I, honestly, have no idea why you're so angry. You have long hours. You should understand."

"That's not the point!" Edward argued and Hohenheim merely surveyed him with a pensive look on his face. "The point was we needed you around, but you were never there. Still aren't." Edward seemed to have said that last part under his breath, but Roy was close enough that he heard it. Hohenheim didn't react to Edward's outburst and instead turned to Izumi.

"The tea is quite delicious, thank you," he told Izumi and Edward gave another cry of frustration.

"See what I mean? Even arguing with you is like trying to tell a brick wall to move!"

"So, how's life?" Hohenheim asked, completely ignoring Edward's tirade. The sudden question caused Edward to cease his vehement insults, but the anger on his face didn't go away. "How's…oh, what's her name-I forget-Sara's daughter?"

"Winry?" he seethed and the older man laughed good-naturedly, as if remembering something that was so silly of him to forget.

"Yes, her, how is she?"

"Just like you, isn't it? You can't even remember the name of your own daughter-in-law."

"Well, forgive me, but-"

"It's bad enough she doesn't even have her own parents, but she can't even rely on my side of the family."

"Now, that's unfair," Hohenheim pouted. "As I recall, I didn't even receive an invitation to your wedding. If Izumi here hadn't mentioned it in passing I would've never even known my eldest son had gotten married."

"Gee, don't you think there's a good reason for that?" Edward snickered at him sarcastically, causing his father to sigh heavily.

"Honestly, I have no idea where Trisha and I went wrong with you…" That seemed to be the last straw, Edward standing up furiously.

"Don't you dare bring mom into this!" he roared fiercely. "She's got nothing to do with the problems between you and me. Don't insult her like that!"

"I would never insult my late wife or her memory," he responded coldly and even Roy could sense that Edward's anger seemed to diminish in the face of Hohenheim's frigid fury. "And you would do well to be more like Alphonse in these situations."

"He's _talking_ with you?" Edward drawled, the incredulity in his voice betraying more of his anger.

"Quite often. Unlike yourself, he seems to have no problems in having a relationship with his father."

"I'm sure it helps that you hold the purse strings for his research project, though."

"Just because Alphonse made a different career choice from yourself does not give you the right to criticize his decisions in doing so, or in associating with me. Truth be told, I always thought you would go into the same field together."

"Al had his reasons, and I had mine." Roy's brow furrowed at Edward's words. It was true that just about every cop had a reason to join the force, but he had never really questioned what exactly it was that compelled the young man to follow his path.

"I know," Hohenheim breathed quietly before chuckling. "Love's quite a powerful thing, isn't it?"

"Love's got nothing to do with it!" All Edward's words did was confirm the truth of Hohenheim's.

"Or everything," he remarked and Edward seemed to be seething. "You'd be surprised: me and Trisha, you and Winry, Al and that research assistant of his-"

"What?" Now Edward was beyond fury, and his entire being was shaking.

"Love-"

"No, what about Al?"

"He and that girl, Mei," Hohenheim mentioned, staring at his son perplexedly.

"What about them?"

"Didn't he tell you? I thought he might have mentioned…" Edward's fists clenched and Roy found his vision flitting between the two men. "He and Mei are in a relationship. You didn't know?"

"No…I guess Al felt he trusted you more," Ed suggested, his face pulled into taut lines as he stared at something beyond his father, his eyes looking dead and blank.

"Did I say something I shouldn't have?" No one was able to answer him before Ed flew from the room. All that followed was a slamming of the front door. "Oh dear…I'm afraid I've never been good at dealing with Edward and his tantrums. That was always Trisha's field of expertise."

"I-I'm sure…" Roy said belatedly, wondering just why he had had to view the events which had just transpired. Hohenheim brushed it off and clapped his hands together.

"But enough about me. It's not every often I hear about my son's work. Do you know him very well?" Roy couldn't help it; he scoffed at the question.

"Actually, I just met him about a week ago, roughly. We're only here because we're…working on a case together," Roy told him and the man seemed to nod in understanding. "Though you can imagine my surprise at finding out that the president of the University of Amestris was his father."

"Ah, well, Edward and Alphonse both have great love for their mother," Hohenheim admitted with another chuckle. "Even though Alphonse does have a relationship with me, he and his older brother both decided to take their mother's name. I'm not sure if it was out of Edward's spite or because having the same last name as me would get them unwanted attention."

"Knowing Al, it was probably just because he wanted to follow in his brother's footsteps," Izumi said, reminding the young detective of her presence in the room. "The two are very close, after all."

"Did you attend the University, Detective Mustang?" the older man asked him.

"Only two years. I got an Associate's Degree in Criminal Justice before I joined the Academy. I attended over at East University."

"Ah, yes, East. We're known more for our Economics majors over there than Criminal Justice, but I guess it's all the same." Hohenheim pulled back the sleeve of his coat. "Oh my, I really should be going. I have a meeting with the Board in Central tonight. Are you sure you won't be able to attend the Awards Ceremony, Izumi?"

"Not all the way in Central. My body's just not up to all that excitement at once," Izumi answered him with a very light laugh.

"Hmm…all right, I suppose. We could always reschedule, though I doubt that will change your mind. Well, good day to you, then. Nice to meet you, Detective Mustang."

"Likewise." The two men shook hands and Hohenheim left through the same exit that Edward had stormed out of. Izumi stood to clear off Hohenheim's cup as Roy sat there, still slightly dazed and confused from everything that had just happened. A sigh reached his lips and he ruffled his own hair, earning a laugh from Izumi.

"Ed certainly is a problem child, isn't he?" Izumi mentioned, striding back in the room with a smirk. "I thought I had beaten more sense into him than that, but I guess not." He didn't doubt that she actually could beat it into him, judging by her performance at the Devil's Nest. "Sorry, what with all the ruckus, I forgot to properly introduce myself. I'm Izumi Curtis. The man who let you in was my husband, Sig."

"Detective Roy Mustang."

"So I've gathered," Izumi said with a smile as she turned towards what Roy presumed was the kitchen. He quickly stood and began to follow her. "If you're here, you must be working a case. Though I would think the South City police would be the ones to take care of it."

"Uh, case was in our jurisdiction, but we were hoping to get some leads here," Roy confessed and Izumi snorted loudly.

"Though I doubt that snake Greed told you anything." Roy didn't bother asking how she knew they had visited Greed. For one thing, he didn't want to say anything he shouldn't. The second, and most prominent, point was that he truly felt there was no point to it. Izumi seemed like an intelligent woman who could figure things out very well on her own. After all, from what he had gleaned, she had taught Edward. Even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, Edward was pretty smart, which could only mean his teacher was smarter. "Oh, look at what that brat did. You'll be staying for dinner, right?"

It took Roy a moment to realize she was talking to him. "I suppose so, I don't think Edward's up for driving back at the moment."

"Naturally. I know you don't know Dublith very well, but could you find the little brat and drag him back here to help with dinner."

"Uh, sure…" After all, what else was he supposed to say to such a request? To that end, he quickly turned away and left the house. The streets seemed to be bustling with children playing ball or otherwise goofing around, and Roy know that would likely make it all the harder to find Edward. Still, Roy Mustang wasn't a detective for nothing. Even if he was in an unfamiliar town with all its unfamiliar streets, Roy still had the power of deduction on his side.

Deduction screamed that there had to be a park area around. Somewhere in Dublith there was bound to be a location that could leave an individual with just their thoughts. Of course, the issue with that then became the matter of where said park was located. Biting back a groan he waded into the sea of scurrying children as he attempted to find what he was looking for. He was forced to pause a moment as his phone vibrated in his pocket. With a grunt, he extricated his phone and looked to see that Havoc was calling him. The "ignore" button became his best friend in that moment. The only reasons Havoc ever called was to badger him into helping them with a completely solvable case or annoy him; although both could have been considered the same thing. A light tap on his arm alerted him to the presence of someone next to him.

"Hey, mister, you were here with Ed earlier, right?" Roy noticed the young teenage girl looking at him with a soft smirk that seemed as though it had been learned from the master of smirks, Edward, himself. "You look lost."

"I feel lost." Deduction be damned if fourteen year olds were taking pity on him. He'd rather finish his task than wander aimlessly through the city. "I'm looking for the park."

"Which one?" Roy drew a look of utmost horror on his face and she giggled. "I'm kidding. Just follow the main road, second left and then a right. Easy-peasy." Roy chuckled as he thanked the girl and set off in the directions she had given. Sure enough, a grassy inlet in the dry town soon appeared, small children in the distance scrambling over what looked like a swing set. A small group of children ran past him and Roy noticed the three eight year old girls with a pang in his heart. Of course, those girls also let his sight lock onto Edward, who was pacing back and forth in front of a bench, yelling into the phone next to his ear.

"Just…call me when you get this message, Al!" Roy finished approaching the man as he snapped his phone shut angrily and plopped onto the bench, the detective joining him. Neither one said a word.

"Some show you gave us there."

"What's it matter to you?" Edward shoved his hands in his pockets and blew his bangs up. "Not like I intended for you to see any of that."

"People rarely do. Although, I can't really understand your anger: he seemed like a perfectly reasonable man." Edward snorted loudly but didn't say anything to refute his claim. "I think you could stand to respect him more."

"Yeah, 'cause being Head Detective means that you know everything. My family, my problems."

"You're right, my status in the department is barely worth the cenz I'm given," Roy assented as his gaze became sharper and fixated on the man next to him. "I would say it's growing up without any parents that gives me the knowledge. You're lucky to even know your father. I was raised my whole life by my aunt."

"Difference," he grunted in response.

"True, but maybe if you tried to have a relationship with him-"

"It would just end badly."

"Fine, sorry for saying anything," Roy sighed out, casting his mind around for another subject. "How do you know Greed?"

"Long story, short," Edward began with a grin, "Al and I used to play in these streets all the time over winter and spring break. One day, Al got something stolen from him and the guy ran into the Devil's Nest. Naturally, we couldn't get in so I used the waterways underneath the city to come up to Greed's secret lair. He was so impressed with it that we hit it off. Ever since then, we've had a pretty solid working relationship. He gives me information on the criminal underworld and eventually, his competition is locked away." Roy was about to say something when Edward pre-empted him.

"But I never joined him or helped him in any illegal activities." Roy only nodded, his question answered. The cries of children playing assaulted their ears and the sight of mothers grabbing their children for dinner only reminded him what he was doing here.

"You're expected back at the house to help make dinner." Edward cringed, quickly standing back up. No words were needed as the two briskly walked back to the Curtis' residence. It didn't surprise the detective when Izumi beat Edward multiple times before telling him to start helping with dinner. As a guest in the house, Roy wasn't asked to help in the making of dinner, and given his rash incidents of burning anything that wasn't a microwave meal, he considered that a blessing. All in all, though, he did look forward to a home-cooked meal. People usually gave up a lot by joining the force, cooked meals being one of them. Most nights it was take-out or nothing. But despite there being delicious warm food in front of him, the atmosphere was entirely chilly.

Izumi, Sig and a worker named Mason tried to entertain conversation but Ed was having none of it, stubbornly refusing to answer in anything more than grunts. And when it came to Roy, he just didn't really feel comfortable with the scrutinizing that was placed upon him, although he remained amiable until the plates were finally clear from the table. Sig and Mason left quickly in order to go and finish up business at the butcher's shop. Edward, meanwhile, decided to retire for the night, audibly slamming the guest bedroom door.

"Brat…" Izumi breathed, though to the detective's ears it sounded more like a growl. Still, the muttering made Roy laugh as he dried the dishes and put them away in the cupboard.

"He must be quite the handful."

"You've no idea," Izumi snarled, but somehow her eyes retained a glimmer or a spark of playfulness. "Ed's always had a temper. Once it would get started, you'd literally need to knock him unconscious to put it out. Seems he's learned a few tricks to keep it going since then."

"You didn't," Roy began, swallowing the slight lump of fear in his throat, "literally knock him unconscious, did you?"

"Sometimes, children need a firm hand," Izumi answered. "I've always been a firm believer in that. 'Spare the rod, spoil the child'? Hah! It should be 'spare the spoiling, hit the child till he learns from his mistakes'." Roy shuddered internally. Now he could see why Edward had so feared this woman back at the Devil's Nest. Still, he figured it would be best to play it off coolly.

"I wouldn't really know," Roy countered with a light hearted laugh. "I've never really had children myself…or been married for that matter.

"Yes, well, neither have I," Izumi confessed and Roy stowed away the dish he was drying with a confused look. All was silent in that moment but for the soft hiss of running water. A quick glance displayed the impressive woman with her eyes closed. He knew the look well enough: pain. "Edward and Alphonse are the closest I've ever had to children myself."

It took Roy a moment to realize she was speaking again, though this time her tone was far softer than the barking, biting one she had been using earlier. It was unmistakably a tone of affection. He had heard it all too many times from Hughes. "How did you meet them?"

"School." Roy's confusion doubled and Izumi appeared to take pity on the poor man. "When the Elrics came to South University they both wanted to major in Chemistry and were either brave or stupid enough to take my class."

"You were one of _those_ teachers, huh?"

"They called me the Terror of the South. In the last decade, only two students have aced my classes at all levels and those two are Edward and his brother. I was so surprised, given Edward's ever petulant mouth in class, that I had to become their advisor. Couldn't have any other lousy professor like Lujon taking credit for the genius of those two boys." Roy laughed at that as he put the last dish in the cupboard and took a seat at the table while Izumi prepared some more tea.

"No small amount of rivalry in your department, is there?" he quipped and Izumi shrugged with a smirk stretching her face.

"You know how it is around co-workers." He nodded in agreement as he took his cup of tea and sipped from it. "Anyway, where did I leave off? So, the two of them were eager to accept me as advisor despite my reportedly harsh advising. In fact, first session I told Ed he sucked at scheduling classes. First thing he said to me was that I sucked at writing tests. I would've hit the cheeky brat then and there if it wasn't for the fact that doing so would break numerous laws. Of course, it was only after his brother came to South University a year later that I learned what had happened to their mother.

"I understood the pain of their loss and invited them to stay at my house here on most breaks and they gladly accepted." Izumi took a moment to drink her tea and gave a grin almost feral. "But I wasn't going to let them stay for free. All those months that they stayed here, I whipped their pathetic asses into shape. It gave them something to focus on and drove away the last vestiges of grief they still hung on to. Ed, in particular, was driven to master any art of fighting he could, especially since Al was always able to beat him for that first year."

"He knows hand-to-hand combat?"

"Extremely well."

"Why didn't he go into the army or the Special Forces, then? They're always looking for people with that kind of skill."

"Hmm, I can't claim to know anything about his motives, but I'd presume it has something to do with that wife of his. Of course, Edward's the only one who'd be able to give you the full answer." Roy thought back to the argument earlier in the day, and his detective skills lighted upon part of the conversations.

"Her parents are dead?" A sad smile danced on the older woman's face before she answered.

"Quite a while ago. The way I understood it from her grandmother, it was quite the violent way to go…bombing in the Ishval region."

"That's one volatile place."

"You know it." It was no question, and Roy remembered the rush of flame before his eyes as Izumi stared at him intensely.

"I know it." A clock chimed in the distance as Roy contemplated how to best move forward. As his finished compiling his thoughts he heard the door open and the television turn to a dull hum in the other room. "Any trained officer of the law who comes out of East Academy usually serves at least six months to a year at the Ishval PD. Not so much recently due to the bombings about eight years ago, but each one of us over at East knows it. Horrible place, really."

"The way I understand it, the crime rate is quite high there." Roy grunted as a way of confirmation.

"On top of that, a majority of the citizens don't trust the policemen to do their jobs and it only complicates things. I'm quite glad to be shot of the place." Izumi said nothing, merely sipping here tea and glancing at the clock on the far wall.

"It's getting late, and I'm afraid I need to rest; frail disposition and all." Roy allowed her to excuse herself before following the small hallway that lead to the spare room where he and Ed were staying. The soft, ambient glow of the lamp still permeated the room as he entered, showing a sleeping Edward Elric on top of the covers of the farthest bed. As he watched the boy's chest heave and fall with the breaths of sleep, he chuckled to himself.

"I think I'm starting to understand you a little better, Edward Elric," he said quietly. Even so, as he laid his head atop the pillow, he knew he had been heard.

* * *

><p>That was the first night in awhile that Roy had been visited by nightmares of Ishval: of the shootings that permeated the city, and the cries of women as they were taken against their will. Most of all, his memory had been assaulted by the flames that had melted away nearly all his courage and nerves. It was to that he woke up in a cold sweat, early in the morning, where a still surly Edward looked over at him with a scowl. Neither spoke much to one another save for simple one-word answers, and after a hearty breakfast the two were off to East City once again.<p>

Unlike the drive on the way there, the Head Detective felt absolutely no need to speak to the young forensics specialist, and instead dwelt on the various things swimming in his head, from Greed's words, to Edward's purported pain, and even of a bereaved little girl who would never again feel her father's beard tickle her face. It was with a heavy heart that he stepped out of the car and entered his apartment. He knew he had to go into work for the rest of the afternoon, but he was hungry and needed something in order to do his work.

_"You have three new messages,"_ came the cool, female voice and Roy grumbled as he prepared himself a ham sandwich.

_"We got a problem, boss,"_ yelled an agitated Havoc and Roy simply deleted the message. Havoc's problems could easily range from not being able to figure something out, to the latest girl turning him down. Roy began to eat as he listened to the next message.

_"Hi, Roy. I was just wondering if you were still planning on coming by Friday, so I know how much food to make. I know Elicia really wants to see you. Just…call me back when you get this message. Oh, and you can bring Riza if you'd like."_ Roy tousled his hair as he listened to the reminder, but immediately stopped when he heard the next message.

_"Me, again, boss. Look, I never call twice so you better know it's serious. I tried calling your cell, but-it doesn't matter. Just get over here; we have an extreme personnel issue."_ Mustang sighed as Havoc finished up the message, _"-and by personnel I mean Hawkeye."_ No more convincing was needed as he shoved the remainder of his meal into his mouth and dashed out the door. A ten minute drive had never felt longer.

"What the hell is going on, Havoc?" Mustang demanded furiously. "I step out for a few days and my team falls apart? Why didn't anyone else call me? Speak already!" Havoc rolled away from his desk with a suppressed growl and looked Mustang pointedly in the eyes.

"It happened pretty damn fast, don't ask me," he groaned at his relatively imposing boss. "All I know is, Tuesday morning, Grumman calls her into the office. They have a conversation and she comes out and starts packing up all her stuff. Boss, she got transferred to Central." Mustang barely realized the torque of his body as he stormed towards the chief's office doors. It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Transfer orders never went through that quickly. On top of that, it was Hawkeye, his most trusted subordinate. No, it was more than that. It wasn't the fact that he had lost Hawkeye the Detective; but rather he had lost Riza the woman.

"Chief, what the hell-"

"Yes, of course. You'll be back tomorrow for the weekend. Wonderful!" Mustang reined himself in as Grumman slowly ended the call and put his phone down. "Ah, Roy, I take it you've heard about Riza."

"Only just. Transferred to Central? Tell me this is some kind of joke! They can't just take away my subordinates like that." Mustang was seething and Grumman eyed him a moment before signaling him to the chair. "I'd rather not."

"Sit." The command was short, but left no room for disobeying. As soon as he was seated, Grumman began to explain everything. "I got a call from Storch, you know, the new Chief over in Central who said that they were experiencing restructuring problems and were contacting the other departments. They requested Riza and in return we receive three other detectives."

"It didn't occur to you to challenge them on this…sir. They can't just-"

"Apparently, they can. The order was signed by Commissioner Bradley, himself. They requested Riza for her excellent performance in the field, and no doubt her experience as partner to the Head Detective here at East."

"So…Commissioner Bradley himself requested her transfer."

"No, not Bradley. Storch actually requested it upon seeing her file." Mustang breathed out in agitation until Greed's words came back to him. There was someone at the top of the police chain who was involved in this whole debacle. Now, Riza was getting a transfer to the very heart of the beast. Now, she would be in a prime position to collect whatever clues reared their ugly head. But now, Roy realized, that wasn't where he wanted her to be at all. He wanted her to be by his side, as she'd always been.

"You look like somebody's died, Roy," Grumman mused humorously. Roy didn't perk up, even at the old man's usual brand of odd humor. "Oh, come now, I know you love my granddaughter but there's no use acting like such a sad sack over it. She's coming home for the weekend; tomorrow night, actually."

"I thought she was permanently transferred to Central."

"Transfer doesn't officially go through until Monday. She's just over there getting acclimated." Suddenly, a large part of the burden was lifted from him. He could see her again. He would have the chance to talk to her about all this. A sigh from Grumman brought his mind back to the office. "Look, Roy, take the rest of the day off. I highly doubt your team will fall apart without you. Besides, you look exhausted."

"Yeah, I suppose," Roy mumbled unintelligibly, breathing slowly to steady his racing heart. "So, three detectives, huh? Do we know who they are?"

"Not a clue. We could get them from anywhere." Mustang nodded as he stood, his head somewhat clearing from the stupor it was in. "Now, I'm not telling you any more. Get some rest or I'll discipline you." Roy agreed and left the office.

* * *

><p>Those twenty-four hours had been the longest, most agonizing stretch of time he had ever endured. What made it even worse was the fact that the two days he had been missing resulted in three cases, one accidental shooting at a steel mill, and a whole bunch of paperwork. Were it any other day, this would've sufficiently occupied his mind, but all it did was remind him that Riza wasn't there. At the same time, he kept dwelling on Greed's words that Central had been occupied by Homunculus Corp.<p>

He _really_ needed his team together.

The unfortunate problem with that was the fact that he couldn't contact any of them. Armstrong couldn't be found at the station, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Mustang learned he had gone to Central as well, with the intention of visiting his family. Feury had avoided the livid Mustang all day after the man had growled enough that the others started mistaking him for a dog. To make matters worse, Edward wasn't answering his cell phone, and his home phone wasn't listed in the police directory. Anytime he had gone down to the lab, the kid wasn't there either, always working some kind of case. It made the detective grind his teeth. Havoc and Breda were no help either; both of them attempted to make him feel better, both failed spectacularly.

This gave him an immense sense of relief when he was able to pack up for the day and head home. As he got ready to drive to his apartment, he checked his messages to see if Riza had called, only to have a single message regarding tomorrow night. Not wanting to speak with _her_ right now, he sent a text messaged saying that he'd be there. The sun was now sinking far beyond the horizon of the tall steel scrapers and the head detective took off.

Elation surged through him when he saw the lights on in Riza's apartment and he quickly parked the car and bounded up the steps into her building. He only had to knock twice before the door opened, and she invited him in with a smile. Her apartment was as clean as ever. What surprised Roy the most, however, was that nothing was packed up.

"Not packed yet?"

"I'm not moving, sir," she explained and he turned to her in question. "I'll be commuting to Central for the weekdays and coming home on the weekends."

"Where will you stay?"

"Alex's parents are allowing me to stay at their manor, free of charge." Roy gave a short, barking laugh. Now it made sense why Armstrong had been missing at the same time as Riza's transfer. "He…wanted me to speak to you."

"Is that implying that you _didn't_ want to speak to me?" Roy asked her with a smirk and Riza chuckled, moving out of the foyer and into her bathroom. She started taking her earrings out and letting her hair down, and Roy figured she must have just gotten home.

"How was your trip with Edward?" she asked him as she continued with her business.

"Vaguely productive," he answered with an irritated breath. "Although, I think I learned more about Fullmetal than I did anything else. Why didn't you call me?" The sudden switch of topic seemed to knock Riza off balance for a moment but, like always, she quickly steadied herself again.

"There was no need to. I felt the matter didn't really concern you." Roy flared his nostrils, angry at her very plain assumption. "So, you'll be getting a new partner, I-"

"Damn it, Riza!" he cried and she turned on her heel slowly to look at him. "Why do you always have to be like this? I appreciate the industrious, hard-working partner you are, but can't you just tell me what you're really feeling for once?"

"There's nothing to explain, sir."

"See? 'Sir', that's all you ever call me. We're alone, just the two of us, and you're still calling me 'sir'!" he yelled, tossing his hands up in the air for emphasis. "Just be Riza, for once. Not Detective Hawkeye. Tell me how you're feeling. Are you angry? Sad?"

"Nothing good ever came from feeling for another person." Riza's entire body was shaking, and he knew the memory she always kept locked up was surfacing again.

"I never asked you to do this. I'm _not_ asking you to do this," he asserted, taking a step closer to her. "I don't want to put you in harm's needless way."

"I promised to look after the man my father chose," she told him, her voice cracking slightly.

"Is that all I was to you? A duty?" he said to her darkly and she closed her eyes. "Your father's dead, Riza. Whatever he asked you to do doesn't matter. You don't owe anything to him. Just because we were supposed to be a team-"

"I'm not doing it for him!" she snapped, her eyes flickering open again. "I'm doing it for you, Roy." His entire body hitched and his mouth flapped open but no sounds issued forth. Riza seemed to calm herself down before clarifying. "I'm sick and tired of you sitting out in the rain."

Those words hit him like a freight train. They were true, all of them. He had been sitting out in the rain for two long years. The rain wasn't stopping for him, but it didn't mean that he needed to neglect every other person in his life. "That doesn't mean you have to fulfill your father's wishes." He had said it as a whisper but knew that she had heard it.

"Roy, you were the only good thing in my life that my father had invested his time into. It was never him that gave me anything. It was always you." She took a deep breath, as if steeling herself for what she was about to say. "I loved you, Roy. I still love you, and you know it. Despite the fact that the anti-fraternization law won't change any time soon, neither will my feelings for you. So that's why I keep it under lock and key."

He smiled wanly. She couldn't afford to show feelings because it would only get the both of them hurt. But perhaps, for one night, she _could_ show those feelings. Perhaps, he could start by showing her his.

And as evening turned into night, he showed her as much as he could.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Finally, I finished this chapter. I know it's late but a lot of stuff happened in my life. Not to mention, I only got five reviews last chapter. Five! I felt sad that I didn't receive more, and I hope to do so this chapter. After all, only your reviews can prevent continental collapse. Obviously, this dealt with some more emotional stuff but did move the plot ahead (and backwards at the same time) and yes, before you ask, Roy and Riza did sleep together. Anyhoo, Chapter 8 is already in the works and it looks to be shorter so expect it sooner. Also, I have begun beta-reading for Skyward Princess of Time on her story <em>Ascension<em>. So, if you're a Zelda fan, hop on over to it and take a look. Now just remember, let's review, and Dare to Be Silly.**


	8. Chapter 8

**I often spend time looking at the different stats on my stories…and what I find funny is that somehow I have more follows than reviews, and I have lots of reviews. Wow! That's a big thank you to all those who do follow this story and especially to those who review. Why, if all who followed reviewed I'd be in the upper 100s by now but no matter. Let's start Chapter 8!**

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><p><span>Chapter 8<span>

Ed savored the feeling of premium roast coffee rolling over his tongue as it helped to soothe his nerves. Ever since that first day at East PD, and the horrific coffee he had been forced to endure, Ed had made it a point to head to the nearby coffee shop if he was ever running late to work. Of course, he always forgot to tell Winry about the malfunctioning machine, but he chalked it up to his wide plethora of excuses that ranged from the cheesy "Every time I see your face…" (which he knew wouldn't work) to the fact that he had a lot on his plate when it came to his job.

Though his job wasn't the reason he was strolling around the essentially vacated streets of East City a few hours before he even had to start work. Yesterday morning had marked the beginning of a new regime of habits for the young specialist, as he got up long before it was time for work and went into the office. Doctor Marcoh had been surprised but said nothing, for which Ed was grateful. The last thing he needed was people spreading rumors. Ed could live without rumors. But there was one in particular that he had heard, and was now more than interested in checking out. He saw the building, whose address was on a piece of paper in his other palm, and quickly approached it, entering the apartment complex.

The hustle and bustle of people preparing for the day could be heard behind each of the doors, and more than once did Ed step to the side to allow a late businessman, or an over-affectionate couple who were on their way out of the building so they could take their PDA elsewhere, to pass. Ed glowered at that one as he finally neared the door he was looking for. Hesitation stole his hand for a moment until he leaned it forward to knock. Before his knuckles hit the wooden portal, however, it swung open.

And before him stood Roy Mustang, still buttoning up his white shirt.

"Fullmetal," he greeted coolly and Ed blanched inwardly, wishing he had never ordered the coffee. "What're you doing here?"

"I would ask you the same thing but I know that I really don't want the answer to it," he choked out, his mind still imagining what had gone on behind that door. "I just came here to see Detective Hawkeye."

"She's uh, she's inside," he answered hesitantly, licking his lips as he did so. "Though I'm not entirely sure she's exactly decent." Another shudder, and then the sound of Riza's heeled footsteps entered the hallway.

"I'm always decent, Roy," Riza snapped angrily as she strolled down the hallway. To Ed's observation, he knew that she was indeed telling the truth, although the smaller signs such as flushed skin, a softer tone, and her use of the name "Roy" indicated that she had been altogether indecent just moments before. "Good to see you again, Edward."

"I'd certainly like to say the same." Riza cast him a confused smile before she fully noticed the awkward situation. Ed's eyes flitted to Roy and the female detective seemed to understand the message. Nevertheless, his non-verbal cues did not go unnoticed by the other detective who grunted loudly.

"All right, I can see when I'm not wanted," he observed and Ed stepped aside to let him through the doorway. "I'll see you tonight, Riza." She nodded and the detective disappeared down the hallway.

"What's going on tonight?" Ed asked her, stepping over the threshold of the door as she closed it behind him.

"Ah, just a little get-together between friends. Nothing too important," she said, stepping away from the young man and into her kitchen. He slowly trailed behind her. "The better question here is: to what do I owe this visit?"

"I, uh, well…" Ed mumbled abashedly. It was only now that he was alone with the relatively intimidating detective that he realized his actions might be construed as childish…or just plain awkward. Truthfully, he felt both very acutely at that moment. "I heard a rumor that you were being transferred."

"It's true. I start work at Central on Monday."

"Oh, well…that's…that's great. Central is usually a huge step up for any officer. So, uh, congratulations." His voice tapered off gawkily. Riza let off a breathy laugh, shaking her head at the young man, and he flushed with embarrassment.

"Relax, Edward, I'm not going to bite your head off," she told him before following through, "and besides, I don't think this transfer is about promotion anyway."

"What do you mean?" Riza turned away from the bowl of cereal she was making and turned to look at him. Edward gulped loudly. The female detective's eyes seemed to be sizing him up, and Ed swiftly made sure his face shifted into an impassive one. He didn't want to say aloud the implied threat hanging over the transfer, out of fear that perhaps he'd be saying something he shouldn't to someone he shouldn't.

"You're working with Roy on Hughes' case, right?" she asked him and he nodded, exhaling as he did so. She did know. "Then I think you'll know why I was transferred." Ed couldn't conjure a response to that, and as Riza sat at her table to eat, he bid her words of farewell and left with a finality that said their conversation was finished. Everything was becoming too much for him, too quickly. It had barely been over a week since he had arrived at East and Al had come home. Now, he felt like all he was doing was running around doing stuff on a case that he had little to no emotional investment in. Granted, that's how it was with the rest of his cases, but for this one he was becoming _too_ involved. His hand started to crumple his now empty coffee cup. He didn't have time for this. Maes Hughes, Homunculus, and that jerk of a head detective didn't need to be on his brain. No…his time should've been spent on the dead case from near ten years ago.

His phone rang jarringly in his pocket, and with a scowl he fished it out to look over at who was calling. It was Al. His grimace deepened and with all the force he could muster, he tossed his cup into the garbage bin at the end of the hall, perfect shot. A millisecond of thought later and he pressed the ignore button. He loved his brother dearly, but right now he couldn't give a damn what the lying little minx had to say.

"Well, you certainly seem to be in a fine mood this morning."

"So do you," Ed snarled, hoping he could end the exchange there and then. The streets were starting to fill up and Ed pointed himself in the direction of the police station.

"I was being facetious, Fullmetal."

"I know you were, moron." He knew he was pushing his luck with this, but his mood had considerably worsened over the course of the morning. Antagonizing Mustang was just a way of alleviating his short temper. "What do you want?"

"Just wondering what prompted you to stop by Riza's," he confessed with a shrug of the shoulders.

"I don't think that's any business of yours," he snapped at the older man, "but I'll have you know I was just checking out a rumor I heard."

"Were you now?" Roy's eyes seemed to suggest something otherwise. This forced Ed to pause in his steps and whip around to face the insufferable man.

"I wasn't there to do anything unsavory, if that's what you're implying," he insisted loudly. In a fit of impulsiveness he held up his left hand to display his wedding band. "Let's not forget, I'm married to a wife that I love and don't plan to ever cheat on."

"Hey, there's no need to be so defen-"

"I think the better question here is: what were you doing there? Ever heard of a thing called the anti-fraternization rule?" To the untrained eye, Roy seemed to still hold on to his smug demeanor, but Ed could see the slight agitation his body underwent at the mention of it.

"That…was a one-time thing. Riza and I don't exactly make a habit of it." Ed snorted in disbelief and he could see Roy twitch with anger. Roy sighed, giving the younger man a chance to survey him for a moment, before stalking off with little ceremony. The hurried footsteps that followed behind him indicated the head detective's pursuit. "Hey, when it comes to Riza and I-"

"Honestly, I don't care. Your business is just that." His phone rang again and he fished it out of his pocket, jabbing at the ignore button. "I've broken my own share of rules, so if that's what you want to do, I'm not gonna tell anyone. I just don't want to know any more."

"Fair enough," Roy assented. "Either way, has…has our contact informed you of anything?"

"You mean Greed? Nah." Mustang's body seemed to deflate at the answer. "But as soon as he does contact me, I'll let you know. So just sit tight until then."

"Good. I wanted to make sure you didn't decide to jump ship." Mustang moved in a blur, suddenly standing in front of the surly forensics specialist, forcing his scowl to deepen. "Fullmetal, I need to know how committed you are to this."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I need to know whether or not you'll turn tail and run as soon as the investigation gets dangerous. My team isn't made of cowards." If Ed had still carried his coffee cup, it would have been little more than a pile of crushed cardboard at the detective's words.

"Isn't the investigation dangerous already? I mean, we're dealing with high-up people at Central, right?"

"Good point," Mustang conceded. "Fullmetal, I just need to know how dedicated you are to the cause. You never knew Hughes. You probably don't care what happened. In other words, you have no emotional investment in this case, and I need to know if you're planning on sticking it to the end. If you're not, then I'll just let you go right now." Ed contemplated the man's words a moment. Were it any other question he would have laughed, but this had been his predicament not ten minutes ago. Now was the moment he needed to make his decision, and damned be the consequences that came of it.

"Don't worry, Lord Detective, you have nothing to worry about. I'm here to the end." And there was his decision. Mustang's mouth tightened but he inclined his head to indicate his acceptance. "Besides you're not the only one used to cold cases."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Whatever you want it to mean." Ed was full-on smirking now and he picked up his pace, noticing that the detective was not following him. The smirk left his face as he turned to see Mustang walking in an opposite direction. "Uh, you realize that the station is this way, right?"

"Of course I do," Mustang declared, "But it's still early and I have other places I need to be. Later, Fullmetal." Roy turned down another street and was gone. Ed shook his head, as though he were a dog clearing himself of the water, and pushed all the thought of the head detective from his mind. Within moments, he found himself walking into the station and into someone.

"Sorry…" Ed apologized, though in truth he couldn't understand how someone could be so stupid as to randomly stand around in the middle of the police department.

"Oh no, my apologies," the man said, forcing Ed to roll his eyes as he looked up at the man. It struck him that he wasn't wearing the usual blue and black that most law enforcement personnel did, opting instead for a cream-white suit that contrasted with his deep black hair. "I was just waiting for my partner. You haven't seen him, have you: black hair, bit on the bony side?"

"Can't say I have." He tried to leave the conversation as curt as he possibly could, but he only got a few paces ahead before the man's sickly voice called him back.

"You know, you look awfully familiar. Have I seen you before?"

"Like I would know." Ed didn't give him another chance, bidding farewell to the unknown man and proceeding into the forensics lab like always. To his surprise, his three other co-workers were already there.

"Oh, Edward, there you are. Your wife called a few minutes back," Doctor Marcoh practically announced to the room and Ed cringed inwardly. Clearly that last call was from Winry and not his broth-Alphonse. That was a call for a chewing out if ever there was one. "She wants you home early today; something about guests for dinner."

"Well, that's news to me," Ed revealed. Heinkel and Darius sniggered at Ed's discomfort and he glared at them. "Don't you go laughing at me. At least I _have_ a wife."

"Great for you, little man," Darius guffawed, "but the bachelor life suits me just fine."

Ed was about to go on a tirade at the bigger man's jab until Marcoh cleared his throat. "Yes, well, in the meantime we all have work to do. Edward, a new case came in, so if you would…"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it covered." He had never been more grateful for a new case. It was an ample enough job to take up the rest of his day, along with the various odds and ends he still had to clean up from his journey south. His mind was still fixating on his conversations at Detective Hawkeye's this morning when he pulled into his garage at home in the mid-afternoon.

"There you are!" cried Winry as he entered the house. She looked none too happy, her hands on her hips, and a venomous twinkle in her eye. For some reason, she looked more imposing than usual…maybe she just seemed bigger. "So, you can't even be bothered to give your own wife a phone call, now?"

"I had a lot of work to do."

"You sent my call on your cell to voicemail." There was an underlying snarl to her statement and Ed reminded himself just how often he could fear his own wife.

"To be honest, I thought you were Al."

"You're not _still_ arguing with him, are you?" Ed chose not to answer her, instead sniffing at the air currently permeating the house.

He took a step away from her and towards the kitchen. "That smells great. What is it?"

"Chicken, but don't you dare change the subject!" she snapped at him, easily cutting off his quick attempt to gain refuge in the kitchen. Ed tugged at the collar of his shirt a little as he laughed nervously, surveying his livid wife a moment.

"You know, your stature can become really intimidating when you're angry." If Winry could narrow her eyes any farther, they would have been slits.

"Are you calling me big?" She had said this with such a mixture of hurt and fury that even he recoiled.

"No!" Ed jabbered out, repeating the words a few more times for added effect. Winry didn't seem to diminish her ire and Ed cast his mind around for something that would do so. He ended up settling on the only other subject that could get his wife off his back. "Hey, Al and I are just having a rough spot."

"You and Al don't have rough spots," Winry reminded him and he sank into a nearby chair with a sigh of agreement. "What's this about, Ed?"

"He lied to me. I'm his brother, that he's known since birth, and he lied to me," Ed rattled off and Winry sat next to him, tapping her chin with a stirring spoon thoughtfully. "I asked him and he said he didn't have a girlfriend and the whole time he was with the little bean girl!"

"Like you're one to talk…and besides, Al's never really had a girlfriend before." Now Ed was completely lost, staring at his wife in bewilderment. "Don't you think he'd be nervous telling you the truth?"

"Only because he'd been in love with you for years!" Ed protested and Winry smirked wickedly.

"I knew there was something like that between you two!" Ed jerked as he realized what he had just revealed to her, but Winry gave a tinkling laugh, putting a reassuring hand on his knee. "Look, just talk to Al. We both know he didn't mean to hurt you; he's too kind for that. If you guys talk, you'll work things out."

Ed wanted to gnash his teeth and insist that Winry was wrong, but Ed knew that she wasn't. His wife had always been more of the people person in their relationship. Another sigh and he stood up, crossing over to the hallway, but pausing at the first picture on the wall. "I guess I can talk to him…" Winry said nothing for a moment, merely sidling up beside him to look at the picture.

"Don't you want Al to have that kind of happiness one day?" Ed gave a short laugh, staring fondly at the picture. It was one of the few pictures in the house that had only the two of them: he in his lush, black tuxedo, and she in her mother's old wedding dress, the both of them smiling with glee.

"Yeah, all right," Ed admitted. "Where is he?"

"Backyard."

"Okay, then," Ed breathed out and he proceeded down the hallway. "By the way, my boss told me we're having guests for dinner?"

"Yeah, I guess Mei's brother is in the country and wanted to visit." Ed made a noise of disbelief, but quietly left it at that, following the path to his backyard. A loud smacking noise indicated to him exactly what Al was doing. Sure enough, as he rounded the corner, he saw Al's leg sweep around and easily knock a log off the plinth it was situated on.

"You know, Winry and I usually use that wood for the fireplace."

"I needed something to practice with," Al responded sheepishly. "I don't want to lose my touch."

"Then how about I be your sparring partner?" Ed hopped down from the stone patio and took a stance in front of his brother. It appeared that Al was trying to size up his brother, but Ed wouldn't let him. His right hand shot out first, towards Al's stomach, but the young man quickly batted it away. Ed kicked outward but his brother leapt back. The older brother stepped forward, aiming his hand at Al's head while simultaneously going for the gut. Al quickly ducked to avoid the upper swipe and pushed the lower one away. His head jerked back up to knock Ed's hand away and his own fist went flying out, but as usual his brother blocked it.

"I don't…know…why you're so mad…brother!" Al grunted out in between their exchange of attacks. Ed aimed a kick with his automail leg outward, and Al sidestepped, aiming a flurry of blows at Ed's side. Ed turned and crossed his arms, blocking the assault.

"You lied to me!" he insisted, targeting his brother's head with another attack.

"I was afraid you'd try to sabotage my relationship because you were still angry at me." Al had to evade another of Ed's attacks, whirling about on his feet. Ed's eyes crossed in thought before he rolled them profusely.

"You think I'd still hold on to that? It's been four years!"

"You have been known to hold on to grudges for a long time," Al reminded him, wiping the sweat off his brow before Ed came at him once again.

"Al…you helped me and Winry get together…at your own expense," Ed told him, his leg sweeping under Al's pair of legs and knocking him over. With a great gasp, the younger brother's back hit the grass. "I wouldn't hold that against you, even if your methods were questionable." Ed's mouth tightened into a thin line and he held his hand out to help his brother up. Al gratefully accepted it and stood up.

"I just really like her, Ed."

"That's great. Don't lie to me about it next time is all," Ed impressed upon his brother.

"Well, if all goes right, there won't be a next time," Al suggested and Ed stared dopily at his brother. Al exhaled and beckoned his brother to follow him inside. The two quickly stepped inside before Al rushed them up the stairs, with Ed only getting a whiff of the smell from the kitchen. Before he knew it, the both of them were in the guest room that Al was using, the aforementioned brother snapping the door shut. He shuffled over to the desk in the room and searched inside it for a moment before pulling out a small black box.

"What is it?" Ed questioned and Al quickly opened the box to reveal a diamond ring in its contents. Shock, or rather astonishment, filled Ed's body and he could only stare at the ring in the box. His mouth was moving, but no sounds were issuing forth from it.

"I know it's not really Xingese tradition, but Mei's confessed that she likes Amestrian traditions more, anyway, so I figured-"

"You're going to propose to her?" His voice had finally found his mouth and had rattled off the question without thinking. Al stopped in the middle of his chatter to blink at Ed and answer him, collapsing on the bed.

"Yeah, I am…before she leaves for Xing, hopefully. I mean, I'm set in my mind and at this point the only thing I don't know is the place." Ed let out a low whistle.

"You'll find it, trust me. You're way better than I am at that stuff." The two brothers chuckled at Ed's observation of the fact. "Does anyone else know your plan?"

"Nope. You're the first." Ed cracked a grin before Winry's loud voice reached them, dripping with an insistence that made the both of them jump.

"Ed! Al! Get down here!" They quickly scurried to obey her command, Al pausing only to stow the ring away. "Al, I know you and Mei said that her brother was coming, but you neglected to mention the army of bodyguards he'd come with!" Al certainly cowered in the face of Winry's anger.

"Yeah, about that…I had promised not to mention it but, Mei's brother is-"

"Ling Yao, pleasure to meet all of you," cut in an unknown voice, causing all three to jump. Ed was the first to turn and face the newcomer. The first thing to appear to him was the man's narrow, more slanted, eyes. Then his words signaled the bells in his brain.

"I'm sorry, did you say Ling Yao, as in the president of Xing?" Ed chuckled out. Ling turned to the woman next to him.

"I was sure I hadn't misspoken…" Ling said quietly, though the other three could very clearly hear him. Ed quickly discovered himself staring at the man's shiny black hair, and noticed how similar it was to both Mei's and the other female next to him.

"Perhaps next time you should introduce yourself with your title, Your Excellency," the woman chastised him and he frowned at her, tapping his left hand.

"Lan Fan…what have I said?" Lan Fan sucked her lips in and blushed triggering both Ed and Winry to look at each other. The woman's previous tone had been as cold as ice, yet here she was, blushing like a schoolgirl.

"Brother, you're here!" came Mei's high pitched voice and Ling turned to his sister, both of them greeting each other in typical Xingese fashion. The two started rambling off in a conversation in Xingese, which only Al seemed to follow before Mei walked off to the kitchen with Lan Fan.

"My apologies; Lan Fan served in my father's secret service for years, so she's not quite use to thinking of me as a husband," Ling said with a grin that forced an awkward laugh out of the married couple. Al stepped past the frozen couple to greet the president. "Alphonse, always a pleasure. So, you must be Alphonse's relatives?"

"Win…uh, Winry and Edward Elric," Winry answered for the both of them and Ling beamed even brighter than before.

"Splendid! And that excellent smell must be dinner!" Without even opening their mouths to answer, Ling had slid into the kitchen, dragging Al along with him. There was an ephemeral silence in the hallway as Winry turned to her husband.

"The _president_…of _Xing_?" Winry gasped in exasperation. "Now I hope my chicken dinner doesn't offend him, for some religious reason or otherwise."

"Your chicken dinner is out of this world, Winry…and besides, Al's told me they eat dog in Xing. I don't think chicken will offend them." He patted her on the back and she nodded, though Ed imagined that she didn't even know she was doing it.

"Let's not go to Xing, then."

"We'll stick it to the postcards." Winry breathed in deeply, affixing a bright smile to her face.

"Well then, Ed, you go get changed and I'll, uh…well…just go get changed." Ed made sure to act on Winry's order and the families soon found themselves awkwardly sitting at the dinner table. Ling was greedily shoveling in food while Lan Fan was staring suspiciously at each one of them, giving Ed the chance to glare right back at her. Ling noticed this and ceased his consumption for a moment.

"Oh, come now, Lan Fan, they're not going to try and assassinate me at the dinner table. Eat, it's delicious!" Winry gave a small smile at the mention of her food, and Ed tore his eyes away from Lan Fan to view the president.

"You look like you're our age. How are you the president of a country?" Ed asked rudely, an action which resulted in Winry elbowing him underneath the table.

"Mmm, I wash emperor…but our fasher…eshcushe me," Ling cleared his throat with an internal belch, "our father was making a move towards democracy. Before that act was fulfilled he died and I was named successor. Really, at the moment, I'm just a president in name only, but part of the reason I was so willing to hold the treaty signing in Amestris was actually to study your own brand of democracy. Do either of you work for the government?"

"Ed's probably the closest of the two of us…"

"Barely," Ed scoffed at the mention. "The only member of the police department that works directly for the government is essentially Bradley."

"Fascinating," Ling said, his eyes alight with a gleam of curiosity and a thirst for knowledge. "I've been meaning to get a better police department, and here I already know a member. I think I'll tag along."

"Bad idea, Ling!" Lan Fan snapped at her husband. "We must be in Central by Sunday; we don't have time to go gallivanting all over this country! On top of that, what if your life is put in danger. This is not Xing, and we are not just here purely for a gala event!"

"Lan Fan, you act as if your grandfather never taught me to protect myself. I'll be fine. Besides, isn't that what we have bodyguards for?" Ling smiled at her sweetly, as though that settled the manner.

"But-"

"I'll be fine. Today is only Friday, anyway. There's no harm in it." Ling sat back in his chair as his wife relented. Ed grimaced inwardly, angry that he hadn't said anything to dissuade the man from his intended action. Then again, doing so would probably earn another elbow from Winry, or worse. He figured he could always find a way to lose the young president at the police station. They wouldn't just let him poke around everywhere, even if he was a president. "Speaking of Sunday, though, your President Dante has decided to throw a ball welcoming us foreigners here. Since we're here at your house, I figure we're all as good as family and would be most pleased is you'd join us for the ball in Central. We'll get you the tickets, of course."

A stunned hush washed over the table before Winry yammered out their words of grateful acceptance as Ling smiled in anticipation once again. Meanwhile, Ed just turned to Al and whispered, "I think we've found your place."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: So finishes Chapter 8. I know it seems like not a lot is going on, but I'm still building up. Something important happens in every chapter whether it be character-wise or plot-wise. On that note, I'm very much looking forward to the next three chapters and have already started on Chapter 9. I hope to see all of you reviewing this chapter and I look forward to each one of your responses. Just remember, Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**I truly enjoy writing this story and am looking forward to the next few chapters. I hope you all are enjoying it enough to review it. Please and thank you. Now, it's time for Chapter nine.**

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><p><span>Chapter 9<span>

"I should've known I'd find you here, Roy," came a soft voice, almost as though it were a whisper of the wind. "You never did miss a chance to visit him."

"Gracia, how are you?" Roy asked, swallowing the lump in his throat to turn and face the woman now standing beside him.

"Better," she answered. Roy thought she looked it too. The smile she had didn't quite reach her eyes as it had when her husband was alive, but she no longer looked like a depressed and mopey wreck. No, Gracia Hughes was on the road to healing, and she looked all the better for it. At the very least, she kept herself; her mousy hair was still perfectly done and her clothes didn't have a single wrinkle or fold. Her voice drew him out of his observation. "Elicia's doing well, too. She's really looking forward to seeing you tonight."

"So am I," he breathed, turning back to the grave. From the corner of his eye he noticed Gracia pull out three rose petals and watched them drift onto Hughes' grave. A rose, because it had always been his favorite flower; three petals for the number of times he had been shot. Never did a full rose sit on Maes Hughes' grave, not until the killer was caught. "How's the flower shop doing?"

"Very well," she beamed at him, and he smiled back at her. "Then again, when you stock as many flowers as we do, it's hard not to do well. What about yourself?"

"Same as always, I suppose." Roy scratched the back of his head. "Things are never dull, I'll tell you that much. Case after case and nothing changes." He had said that last part rather bitterly and Gracia observed him with her soft eyes.

"Yet you seem happier, why is that?" Gracia's question startled him and he dwelled on the events of last night. Of course, that probably wasn't the only reason he was better than he had been. "What's going on with your team?"

"Oh, you know them…Breda's still taking lead over Havoc, who's still obsessing over women he'll never have. Armstrong is as exuberant as ever and Feury is coming into his own as a detective. Meanwhile, Riza got transferred to Central, but she'll be here on weekends. I, supposedly, meet my new partner today."

"I'd imagine Riza is the reason you're happier, then?" Roy couldn't help himself; he laughed. It wasn't like there was anyone else in the cemetery to take offense, or to care.

"You always were perceptive, from the day I met you," he told her and she kept on smiling at him. Roy's thoughts drifted away for a moment, to the conversation he had had with his forensics specialist earlier this morning, before he had come here. "Maybe everything's had an effect on me…"

"How do you mean?" Roy took a small respite before answering.

"We have this new Forensics Specialist, Elric," he told her as he shook his head in disbelief. "He kind of reminds me of Hughes in a way. He's inquisitive, curious, doesn't know when to stop…and he's got a wife who's just as perceptive as his."

"Sounds like people I'd like to know," Gracia joked and Roy smirked, responding to her rapidly.

"This guy? Nah. He's got a foul mouth and a short temper. His wife seems okay but they _are_ only twenty, so they could be two complete wild cards. He's a good kid but definitely not good company." Gracia stifled her giggles at Roy's little joke and he couldn't stop himself from chuckling with her. After the sounds of amusement tapered off, the two stood alone in the cemetery, staring down at the slab of stone before them. "Who knows…maybe I will introduce you some day…"

"Maes would like that, you making friends and all. He was always a people person."

"Maybe a little too much sometimes," Roy said in both agreement and protest. Another cessation of noise followed.

"He would have been thirty four today…if he had…" Gracia couldn't finish her own sentence and Roy merely put a soothing hand on her back. "And here I am, still making his present. I suppose you'll still share it with the others?"

At last, Roy caught a whiff from the package that Gracia had brought with her. She held it up and Roy took it tremulously, and held it with reverence. "Apple pie, and still the best one I've tasted. I'm sure the guys will eat it all up within seconds, like always."

"I've never had any complaints," she admitted and he nodded, securing the package underneath his arm.

"I'd imagine all you'd get would be compliments," Roy argued. "Heck, we were tormented everyday when Hughes would walk in with the heavenly scent of apple pie on him. If anything, I would hope you'd take requests."

"Not yet anyway, you'd run my inventory dry." Her laugh now sounded like tinkling glass, but to Roy, his thoughts had started drifting darker, and the glass suddenly shattered.

"I'm close, Gracia," he stated with temerity and the woman stopped her sounds of mirth to look at the head detective. "I have a good lead this time, I think."

"That's what you said last time, Roy. We both know nothing came of it."

"But I have a really good feeling about it this time. I can catch him. I can get his killer."

"What happens then, Roy?" Her voice was soft, but for all intents and purposes, she was yelling. "Do you think it will give you closure? He's dead, Roy, and catching the person who killed him is not going to bring him back. There won't be any closure."

"Closure isn't for the dead," he breathed, hanging his head. "It was never for the dead. It's for those who are left living and have to move on, but never really can. I've seen it too many times."

"That's all well and good, but you don't need to do this." Gracia walked around to look directly at Roy, and when she spoke again, it was with an unwavering tenacity. "Maes told me that detectives give their lives for bringing people closure every day. He wouldn't want you to throw your life away, though, going after his death. That's no way to live…just think about that." Roy exhaled as Gracia gripped her purse and wished him a farewell, walking away from the cemetery and leaving him alone. His left hand clenched into a tight fist as he remained.

Out of all the people in the world, Gracia should have been the one to understand the pain he was going through. She should have understood the yearnings he had, that desperate need for answers. Instead, here she was, dissuading him from seeking those answers. Then she had dragged his name into it, as if he himself were communicating with Roy through his wife. It stung more than the chilled East City wind, or the tears that threatened to engulf his face. He quickly composed himself and inclined his head toward the grave. His footsteps then led him away from his best friend and into his car back at Riza's.

_He wouldn't want you to throw your life away, though, going after his death._

What could Gracia know? She accepted his death as a fact of life because she had no power to change it. But for Roy…death had always been around him. In some ways, it was his closest friend and companion. Striding through a world of variables, death was always the constant, like flames reaching outward toward the nighttime sky. Roy Mustang didn't fear death.

_Are you really just going to sit there and drink your life away 'cause of one mistake? Don't be rash, Roy._

He had always been the voice of reason. Whether it was dating advice, case solving or just life lessons, Hughes was a man that people always listened to. Roy quickly parked his car and stepped out, striding into the station with his mind still sufficiently occupied. He was torn from his musings very suddenly as he noticed a man at a nearby desk. Balancing the package precariously between his arm and body, he made his way over.

"Solf J. Kimblee…" he breathed contemptibly and the black haired man turned to face him. As he seemed to take in Mustang's presence, a smile stretched itself across his face.

"Roy Mustang, it's been far too long since we've seen each other," the other man replied and Mustang glowered at him.

"Not long enough in my opinion," Mustang confessed. "What are you doing here? Last I heard, you were suspended."

"A minor misunderstanding," Kimblee urged and Mustang felt his eyes narrowing, his vision tightening on the man in front of him.

"You threatened civilians in order to catch a criminal and endangered numerous lives. I don't see that as a misunderstanding, minor or not." Kimblee chuckled, his laugh sounding positively eerie to the head detective.

"Oh, don't tell me you haven't done something similar once or twice, Mustang." Mustang winced at the implication and Kimblee laughed again, this time louder and drawing attention from many of the station's occupants. "All the world's like a symphony of chaos where we detectives are the conductors, the people are the musicians and those criminals are the elusive notes. You've got to move all the pieces in the right order to catch it, you understand?"

"I'm afraid I don't. I've always thought you were just a touch crazy, though, ever since Ishval."

"Maybe I am," Kimblee admitted with a shrug, "or maybe I'm not. The higher-ups certainly seem to think so, or they wouldn't have demoted me to this place." He gestured around the room and Roy found his hands involuntarily crushing the box he was holding. "On the other hand, look at you: Head Detective last I heard."

"Which also makes me your boss while you're here," Mustang hissed at the other detective.

"Looking forward to it, then…sir." Kimblee gave a theatrical bow before he seemed to notice something. The waving of his hand prompted Mustang to turn around and notice a younger man walking purposefully up to them. The sight of him personally disgusted Roy. His hair was long and somewhat unruly, even if it was styled well enough. At the same time, he seemed to be nothing but skin and bones, a grotesque sight if ever he saw one. "Mustang, have you met my partner, Detective Jealot?"

"Can't say I have," he grunted out in response to the other man. The skinny man came and stood next to Kimblee. In that instant, he decided there was something about the man he just didn't like. Maybe it was the fact that he was associated with Kimblee. Or maybe it was the taunting smirk that held his face, as if looking down on everyone around him. Or perhaps, it was just the fact he felt this man was extremely unlikable. "I'm guessing that you were transferred from Central, too?"

"That's right." The answer was harsh and barking. Mustang didn't like either, and he scowled to indicate his displeasure with the man's response.

"Well, then, welcome to East." He didn't bother going to shake his hand, and it was clear Detective Jealot didn't care to either, instead sniffing at the air like a dog.

"Hmm, that's a pleasant smell. Apple pie, if I'm not mistaken," he said and Roy felt as if his veins were about to pop out of his skin. This guy was really starting to tick him off. "Do you bake?"

"No, it's from a friend, for some of the _other_ detectives." He had certainly stressed the word "other". "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work that needs doing." He briskly strode away from them and over to his desk, slamming the apple pie onto it. A small pang hit his heart as he saw the cleaned off desk of his previous partner. Clearly, his new partner had not yet arrived at the station.

"So, that's Crazy Kimblee, huh?" Havoc's musing seemed to bring Roy out of his own, and he faced the younger detective. "Man, the number of stories there've been about him are enough to make grown men wet their beds."

"I guess that's one way to put it," Mustang responded, prompting Havoc to give a low whistle. A shuffling of papers at an adjacent desk indicated that Breda was also there.

"Sounds like you know him, boss," he quipped and Mustang scoffed. For a moment, he debated whether he should tell them, but in the end decided there was no harm in it.

"Yeah, I knew him," he told the larger detective and both Breda and Havoc leaned in to listen. "Him, Hughes and myself were all part of the same class at the Academy. After that, the three of us were together at Ishval."

"I forgot, you guys were in Ishval at the time of the bombings, right?" Breda said and Mustang issued a curt nod. "I remember, 'cause I was only two years behind you and by then they had already stopped sending so many officers into Ishval PD."

"The bombings were the reason for that." Mustang took another deep breath before going on. "Anyway, the three of us served in Ishval for about a year, and then the bombings happened. Naturally, it was like an exodus of police officers, but the three of us stuck it out, as did Hawkeye when she joined us. He loved it, Kimblee did. He reveled in the terror that the bombs brought, called it a symphony. I'll never forget his words. They were part of what inspired me to be the detective I am."

"What did he say?" Havoc asked avidly and the head detective could only frown at him.

"You don't want to know. So, after a time, I took the DET along with Hughes, and Grumman moved the two of us here to East PD. Kimblee, meanwhile, was picked up at North. Rumor had it they wanted him moved out of the volatile east region. Don't know much about him after that, I'm happy to say. Heard he got transferred to Central after about a month or two…something about Chief Armstrong calling him an 'untamable dog'. Can't fathom why they'd send him back _here_."

"Well, whatever the reason, I'm sure it won't be too bad," Breda chortled, but the head detective's stern look of disapproval clammed the man up almost immediately.

"Then you _really_ don't know Solf J. Kimblee," Mustang mused. "I'm still not convinced he had nothing to do with those bombings. Or at least, he didn't become a police officer to protect civilians, I'll tell you that much." Silence followed until Havoc made an abrupt noise of recognition.

"Is that what I think it is? Gracia Hughes' apple pie?" Roy could tell Havoc's mouth was watering and he was about to laugh it off, until he caught sight of Fokker strolling through the department to what seemed to be the records room.

"Yeah, help yourself…Excuse me." Both made sounds of acknowledgement as he stepped away, pausing only to say, "Just make sure you save some for Feury and Armstrong." Not sticking around to listen to the two men's lies of confirmation, Mustang quickly dashed in the direction from which Fokker had come. A grin spread across his face. His intuition had been right. "So, I see you guys are back again."

"I guess the boss doesn't have enough information to make any kind of case against you," Rebecca said, snapping her phone shut. "As it were, he's back here to look into your records room and question some other officers of the department."

"Do you really think he'll find anything?"

"The better question is, I believe, do I care?" The scathing look she gave Mustang indicated that she obviously didn't. "Where's Riza?"

"Transferred to Central." Ever a creature of habit, Rebecca's eyebrow raised and Mustang just hoped she wouldn't start making a scene. Oddly enough, she didn't.

"That's weird."

"What's so weird about it?" Rebecca's sigh showed that she really didn't want to answer, but allowed herself to let go of her forebodings and tell him anyway.

"Just the timing of it all," she quipped, checking her phone once again, to Mustang's annoyance. "Some weird stuff is going down at Internal Affairs. Transfers left and right, mostly pertaining to the East area, and Fokker's all in a tizzy. I mean, the man's dedicated and all, but he's never gone on a witch hunt like this before. It's just…weird…" she tapered off lamely. The head detective quickly mulled over the words in his head before coming to a satisfying conclusion.

"Rebecca, can I ask you a favor?" Rebecca, who had been mindlessly flipping her phone open and shut, stopped and stared at him suspiciously.

"And why, in all of Amestris, would I do you a favor?" she asked him warily.

"What if I said it was for Riza?" He had her attention now. "I'm convinced there's something entirely more…sinister behind her transfer to Central."

"Then what do you want me to do?" He had grabbed her: hook, line and sinker.

"I need you to look into IA and see what's going on there," he told her and she frowned intensely.

"No way. If I go poking around at Internal Affairs, people will know that something's up. They'll seal their stuff up tight and I won't even get a peep. On top of that, I could lose my job, which I'm not quite willing to do, seeing as there is still stuff I have to accomplish." Mustang groaned inwardly; the girl sure could talk incessantly. Before she could continue with her babbling, the head detective cut across her.

"Okay, I get it. How about Fokker, then?" She refrained from continuing her tirade and paused to think.

"That, I think I can do," she answered tentatively. "What do you need me to look into?"

"Little things: meetings he's had, memos he's received. Anything to give an idea of what he's up to." Rebecca was on her phone again, but he knew that this time it was because she was taking down notes. "Thanks, Rebecca."

"Oh, I'm not done with you," she snapped as he rushed to beat a hasty retreat. "I'll need a favor in return, Head Detective Mustang."

"If this is about Havoc-"

"No, I'm just asking you and your little crew of men to sign the petition when it comes to call." Now, he was absolutely bamboozled, and his face displayed it as such. "Those old men on the board decided to give my repeal of the anti-fraternization policy a shot, only I need a bunch of signatures to get the ball really rolling. So, they'll be sending petitions around to get police department approval."

"All right, consider your favor granted, then." With that, he took his leave of the over-energetic, raven haired, Internal Affairs officer. It wasn't long before he halted at the appearance of a rather portly man standing near his desk.

Ironically, this man seemed to be the practical antithesis of Detective Jealot. Whereas the latter was bony and thin, this man appeared to have eaten too many crème-filled doughnuts in his lifetime, a no doubt unhealthy habit. His entire body was pudgy and round, which was only highlighted not just by the roundness of his head but by how short he was as well. It all made for a rather comical appearance that suggested the rotund-ness of the little man. Nonetheless, Mustang approached.

"Can I help you?" he asked, pushing his hands into his pockets. The man turned to face him, and somehow, Roy wasn't surprised when even his nose turned out to be a little more…well, rounded.

"Roy Mustang?" the man asked in a slightly higher-pitched voice than one would've expected. Mustang nodded at the man in confirmation and his lips twitched slightly. "Detective Vorac, your new partner."

"Ah, pleasure." He had held out his hand, but Vorac seemed to ruminate over his large and pudgy fingers before grinning wide at him. Mustang wasn't entirely sure of what to do, so he withdrew his hand and used it instead to motion at the workspace. "Well, feel free to set up your desk in any way you'd like, and we can get working on our cases as soon as possible."

"Of course…I'm sure we'll make great partners." Seeing no fit need to respond, the head detective turned back to his desk and pulled the nearest case file, a robbery at a high-end clothing store, towards him. Vorac was still standing there, and Mustang's diverted attention revealed the portly detective to be sniffing the air.

"Apple pie," he told him with a smile and received a jumping response in turn. "Feel free to have a piece if you'd like…assuming Havoc or Breda's left you any." Nonetheless, he was actually pleased to see the man eagerly devouring his piece. "You have a first name?"

"Most people just refer to me as detective or Vorac…" Mustang merely shrugged and turned to him as he cleared away the remaining vestiges of the pie.

"Well then, Vorac, whenever you're ready, I've got our next case to work on." And work on that case they did. Mustang soon learned that Vorac wasn't necessarily the sharpest tool in the shed, which caused the head detective to do most of the heavy lifting. Nevertheless, he seemed amiable enough and, to both his bamboozlement and amusement, the detective knew all the best restaurants in the area for lunch. He couldn't say the two had bonded over the course of their investigation, which ended in the arrest of the store's assistant manager, but they had formed at least a solid working relationship by the time that the two had departed from each other. The head detective was only glad he hadn't seen Kimblee or his partner the rest of the day.

As the day started drawing to a close, Roy stopped by Riza's and the two made their way to the Hughes' household. A little girl with light brown hair opened the door and her smile immediately brightened.

"Uncle Roy!" the girl squealed and quickly hugged him around the waist, Riza laughing beside him. "C'mere, c'mere! Let me show you what I drew for the school art show." Roy quickly found himself being dragged off by the eight-year old. Passing by Gracia he uttered words of greeting as she moved on to speak with Riza.

"They're…uh…magnificent…" Roy commented once he had arrived at the young girl's picture hanging in the living room. "Is that…a duck?" Elicia Hughes quickly put her hands on her hips and pouted at him.

"No!" she teased, with her tongue sticking out. In order to humor the miniature girl, Roy leaned in to examine the canvas, taking his time while Elicia stood there rather impatiently. He drew back and folded his arms.

"Looks like a duck to me." Elicia aimed a kick at Roy and caught him violently on the shin. "You little twerp." Before the little girl had a chance to run away, he had scooped her up, with all her giggles and squirming, and carried her to the kitchen, where Gracia was finishing setting the table. He quickly dumped her into her seat and tweaked her nose before seating himself next to her.

As usual, dinner made by Gracia Hughes was a delicious affair, and at some point, Roy felt he had lost years of maturity when he and Elicia started flinging peas back and forth at one another. He could tell that Riza wanted to remonstrate him, but found herself laughing too much at the little girl's wild stories and Gracia's infectious smiles. Only after the meal did Roy find himself separated from Elicia as Riza took over the duties. Gracia collapsed next to him on the couch soon after.

"Drink?" she asked, holding up a bottle of beer that was opened. He gave her a sliding look and she chortled, placing the bottle on a nearby table. "Just thought I'd see."

"You've done a great job raising her. Give her a few more years and she'll turn into a fine woman," he said and she smiled dolefully at him.

"You've already got yourself a fine woman. You won't find better…few people do."

"You did." She sighed, as though she had been afraid they were going to breach the topic.

"Yes…Maes and I were practically made for each other…and I miss him terribly. I can understand how those army wives feel, hoping it doesn't happen to anyone else. But…" She broke off here and Roy looked at her, wondering just what she was thinking. "Roy, what you said this morning, about never being able to move on. Well, I just don't think it's true.

"Sure, that kind of pain is always with us, but if we let that pain and anguish fill us up, we're nothing more than empty husks. We block out all other emotion, and we stop living. Then we shame whatever that person died for." She fiddled with her earrings as Roy remained silent to her statement. "You will find a way to move on."

"How?" His voice had been little more than a whisper, and soon after he felt Gracia's soft hands rubbing his back gently.

"That's up to you. Sometimes it can be something or someone so little or insignificant, but it can change your world for the better. All I know, is that somewhere along the way…you'll find it." And Roy wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe her so much that after both he and Riza had left, and she was safely back home, Roy merely questioned what in his life could help him make it all better.

* * *

><p>Saturday morning was <em>not<em> a good morning for Roy Mustang. To start with, he woke up obscenely late and then realized he still had to go into work. Rushing himself, he scurried through his refrigerator only to realize he hadn't gone food shopping in over a week. Grumbling and cursing to himself, Roy quickly hopped on over to the station. With an eternal scowl, he filled up a stale cup of coffee and grabbed two doughnuts from a tray, wrapping them up in a napkin. His grimace remained until he caught sight of the figure by the chief's door. She spoke to him first, however.

"Doughnuts, sir? I always thought you hated that stereotypical police food," Riza commented idly and Roy frowned, taking a bite out of the powdered one to disprove her point.

"I was out of food…didn't really have a choice," he informed her. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Grandfather and I made plans for the day, but as you can see, he seems to be busy in a meeting." She motioned behind her and Roy noticed for the first time that the chief's office was closed and all of its blinds were down, preventing anyone from seeing in. "It's been like that since I got here."

"Sounds phenomenal. Well, I have work to make up, so…catch you later." She waved him good bye as he finished his first doughnut, and started hungrily on his second. Vorac was already at his desk, scribbling away at some reports. The head detective greeted him with a yawn, but the large man made no response. Mustang turned to greet Havoc and Breda, only to find Havoc staring dreamily out the window. "What's with him?"

"Morning to you too, boss," Breda greeted stiffly, rubbing his temples. Mustang didn't need to be a detective to easily guess what he had been doing the previous night. "He met some girl at the club last night when we went drinking. They really hit it off, I guess."

"Bout time he got a girlfriend. Maybe he'll stop complaining for once and actually do some work."

"Yes to the first, doubt it to the second," Breda said, thwacking his partner on the side of the head. Havoc didn't react and Roy realized with a shake of his head that the young man was beyond hopeless.

"So, she must look good if it's got him all like this."

"Eh, just your average girl in my opinion: curvy, busty, and not afraid to flaunt it."

"So, in other words, Havoc's kind of girl."

"Yep." Roy sighed as he imagined how Havoc's work ethic (if there was any) would just plummet now. "And she's stopping by to visit today." A small yelp from next to him provoked Mustang's sight onto that of his new partner.

"Sorry…" he whispered sheepishly. "Thought I-thought I saw something on my desk." Roy raised his eyebrow at the man but decided to not leave a single comment. A sharp vibration shuddered through his coat pocket and he quickly pulled his phone out to see it was a text from Rebecca.

"Excuse men, I have to take this." Leaving his coffee at his desk, he quickly swept past a still waiting Riza until he noticed Rebecca at the entrance to the station. "I didn't realize you were still in town."

"Fokker's sticking around until he's done with the interviews and I'm stuck with him," Rebecca told him with a scowl that showed she was angry about more than being stuck in East for a weekend. "It's bad enough being stuck in a room with Sheska…"

"What did you find out, Catalina?" he interjected, hoping to head off her diatribe. Rebecca sighed and glowered at him.

"It's always work with you! I have my problems but you're all mister manly police officer."

"Rebecca…" he said warningly.

"This is your fault, anyway. Didn't you say you'd talk to Havoc about me, or did it escape your over-inflated ego?"

"Is that what this is about? You saw Havoc's new girlfriend?" His exasperation was at its height now. He could barely believe he was having this conversation. Rebecca flared up further.

"Oh, yeah, I saw them shoving each other's tongues in their throats…stupid skank…"

"Hey, I can't help it id Havoc's a dunderhead," Mustang butted in and Rebecca stopped talking, but certainly continued fuming. "Look, you texted me. What did you find out?"

"Nothing." His mouth dropped open. "And I mean that literally. Fokker's stuff is clear. No e-mails, letters or documents. The only thing I saw was a phone call the day we came here, but obviously there's nothing I can see past that. Sorry…"

"It-it's fine…thanks for the help." He turned back and started towards his desk, hearing mere snippets from his informant's mouth that involved the words "Havoc" and "darts". Chuckling to himself, he grabbed his coffee up off his desk and brought it to his lips.

"There you are, Jean," cried a husky voice and Roy stopped. Why on earth could he not just drink his tasteless coffee in peace? Turning around he saw a very curvaceous woman approach Havoc and blanched. When he had heard Rebecca call the woman a skank, he thought she had been exaggerating. The woman was dressed worse than his sisters when they were pumping men for information. Havoc was naturally slobbering all over her, but Roy turned away in distaste. "I thought you would have been waiting up front for me."

"Sorry, Solaris, perks of the job," Havoc said with an unnatural grin.

"It's fine. I brought you some walnuts." She dumped a bag on the desk and turned around, her eyes meeting Roy's. For a second, he thought he saw a flickering fire behind her eyes, but before he could ascertain what he had seen, she turned away and looked at Vorac, who was staring vapidly at her. "I jumped through a lot of hoops to get you those, you little glutton."

"You shouldn't have…" Havoc said with an overly sweet tone that certainly didn't suit him.

"Well, my friends Annie and Natalia suggested that I should," Solaris commented, whipping her illustrious black hair behind her. "So, I contacted my friends Mathilda, Amber, and Henrietta who spoke to Thomas and…"

"That's great. I'm glad you got 'em, but I don't need to know the whole story." Solaris didn't seem to like that and scowled quite vividly, but quickly replaced it with a seductive smile.

"It all worked out in the end, I guess…" Roy finally pulled himself away from their conversation and jumped when he found both Armstrong and Feury standing beside him.

"Gah! Armstrong, stop sneaking up on me like that!" Mustang chastised him and Feury raised an eyebrow at him.

"To be fair, it's kind of hard for Armstrong to sneak up on anyone," Feury answered and Mustang had no choice but to concur. "So, what's going on here?"

"Just a large spectacle of absolutely unneeded PDA." He had said the last part loudly, but it seemed to be drowned out by the opening of the chief's office.

"…quite the politician and diplomat. I'll make sure those tickets get passed along to my staff." Grumman's voice called out from his office, drawing every detective's eyes to the door. With his usual grimace, Edward stormed out of the door, followed by a Xingese man and several bodyguards.

"You're quite the raconteur yourself, good sir. I look forward to seeing you at the gala tomorrow," the man said and Roy quirked both his eyebrows up. The two men seemed to say goodbye before Edward grabbed him violently.

"Are you incapable of _not_ inviting everyone to this ball?" he snarled out and the Xingese man shrugged.

"In my country I've thrown balls to feed the hungry. I'm sure your president won't mind a few extra guests."

"A few extra…Ling, you invited all the detectives in the department and their significant others." Edward threw his hands in the air before grabbing Ling again. "Just-come on, I'll show you the Forensics lab." Ling seemed to briskly skip after Edward while the other occupants in the room seemed to stare after in stunned silence.

"A ball? Oh, Jean, how wonderful!" Solaris exclaimed and Havoc laughed nervously. Roy just collapsed in his seat and finally grabbed his coffee again. No doubt Grumman would make the announcement soon (and make it mandatory). Finally sipping on his now lukewarm beverage, Mustang sighed. Why did his weekend have to be so complicated?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Perhaps one of my favorite chapters to write and introduces a whole slew of characters as well. Next chapter essentially finishes off introductions but I'm not giving you much more than that, I think you'll find it enjoyable and unexpected. Well, leave me a review please with lots of juicy info if you can! Oh, and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**I recently bought the full collection of Brotherhood…only, I'm not really sure if it will make me write faster or slower. Oh well, time for Chapter 10!  
><strong>

**ATTENTION! ATTENTION! I am looking for artists to draw me an image cover for this story! I can't draw at all (it's why I write) so I am petitioning for people to do it for me. This can be done in one of two ways: 1) a book cover or 2) a movie poster style. My only other requirement is that you contact me regarding this in a wonderful review (with a tidbit about whatever chapter you're reviewing) and we can start PMing from there. I want to give you creative freedom and I'll give links to all submissions and mention the top three in this story. I don't know how many chapters I'll give it but, hey, we'll figure it out. I hope this is a good opportunity for all of us.**

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><p><span>Chapter 10<span>

Oh, how he hated tuxedos.

In all of Ed's life prior to this day, there had only been three instances where he had been forced to wear some variation of a tuxedo. Out of all of those, only one held nothing but good memories for him, and that was the day of his wedding. Now, thanks to Ling (or as Ed liked to refer to him, squinty-eyed loudmouth), he was forced to wear his tuxedo once again.

"Ed, can you zip me up?" Of course, there were some advantages to the whole thing in the first place. Turning to his wife in her navy dress, he smiled on the inside and wondered how he had gotten so damn lucky.

His hands delicately touched the zipper at her back and pulled it up as Winry let her hair fall. Ed stepped back to survey her as she tied her hair behind her and reached for the chiffon scarf that was lying on their bed. Ed's eyes started drooping in boredom as he watched Winry wrap the scarf around herself before glaring at the mirror in scrutiny.

"Do you think this dress makes me look fat?" Where had that come from? All semblance of boredom now gone, Ed quirked an eyebrow at his wife.

"Why are you even asking that?" He wasn't irritated, despite his tone implying so. Winry turned to face him with a pout, but Ed didn't relent under the stony gaze. "You've never asked before. In fact, I can't even recall a time you were _ever_ insecure about your body and your looks."

"I'm not insecure!" she protested loudly. "I'm just asking a question, that you, as my dutiful husband, should answer."

"Yeah, you are asking a question that teenage girls who are insecure would ask," Ed chided, but Winry didn't back down from her verbal assault.

"You're incorrigible, you know that?" Ed could only shrug at his wife's description of him as she turned back to the mirror. Sensing she was truly upset, he stood up and walked over to her whilst she fidgeted with her scarf. "Just answer the damn question, will you?"

"Winry, in no possible way can you look fat. Honestly, you're one of the sexiest women out there." He started rubbing her shoulders and she slumped back against his chest in relaxation. "Honestly, where did you even get that idea in the first place?" He felt her muscles tense, and she seemed to clam up almost instantly. Sensing something was actually wrong with his wife, he turned her around to face him. Looking over her tightened face, he quickly asked her what was wrong.

"Ed, I-" Much to Ed's scowling displeasure, the door opened at that moment and Al poked his head in.

"Are you guys almost ready?"

"Geez, Al, ever heard of knocking?" Ed snapped at him, but Al seemed unfazed, merely stepping into the room with confidence. "We could have been naked."

"I figured you weren't _that_ irresponsible." Ed gave his brother a scathing glance as both he and his wife regained their bearings. "I just know it'll take a few hours to reach Central."

"Okay, okay, Al, there's no need to mother us," Ed retorted, his frustration beginning to reach its peak. "Are you going to walk us down the stairs, too?"

Al sighed. "No, I'll just meet you down there. Mei's waiting in the car." With that, the younger brother surreptitiously exited himself from the room. Ed rubbed his eyes before turning to Winry who was quickly grabbing her purse, all vestiges of her previous mood suddenly gone.

"Come on, Ed, stop gawking!" she yelled and Ed popped an eyebrow. "Al's waiting for us, so let's get going!" Ed could only try and force himself to relax as he followed her from the room. Between his brother's hanging nervousness and his wife's sudden mood swing, he was starting to lose it. Since when had he become the sane one in the Elric family? Before he noticed it, his feet had already carried him downstairs.

"…have the tickets?" said Al's voice, and Ed finally realized his younger brother was, in fact, talking to him. "Do you have the tickets?"

"Yes, mother Al, they're in my suit pocket, along with my wallet." He patted his suit to feel and make sure that everything was still there while Al nodded nervously. Winry swept past the two of them, no doubt on her way to the car.

"All right…good…" Al stammered out and Ed quickly shot his hand out to steady the poor young man.

"Relax, okay," Ed told him in a likely ill-fated attempt to console him. "You're ready for this, okay?"

"B-but, what if something goes wrong? What if I lose the ring? O-or what if I can't find the right time to ask her?" A small pause passed before Al revealed what seemed to be his deepest, darkest fear. "What if she says no?" The question had been little more than a whisper but Ed had heard it just fine all the same.

"Al, have you seen the way that girl looks at you?" he asked with a smirk. "It's like every time you walk in the room, her eyes light up with admiration. If that girl rejects the possibility of marrying you, then Winry's really a man…albeit a very feminine one." Al's chuckle told him that he had done his job of soothing his younger brother's insatiable nerves.

"Hey, are you guys coming or what? I think it would look sufficiently awkward if Mei and I showed up without our dates," Winry barked, poking her head in the room.

"I think it'd look more awkward if you showed up without tickets, dear," he told his wife in a simpering tone and she glowered at him vehemently.

"Then get your ass in the car!" The door snapped shut the same as she had, and Ed unclenched the fists he didn't realize he had been balling in his pockets. Al chuckled again.

"She seems to be in a good mood."

"And sometimes she is," Ed commented. "Then there's other times we'll be in bed at night and she'll snap at me because I'm reading or doing something, anything. I mean, Winry and I have always argued, you know that, but something seems different here."

"Well," Al began, clapping his brother on the back, "I'd say if you want to avoid her wrath we should probably get going. Wouldn't do to keep the ladies waiting."

"Ever the chivalrous brother, aren't you Al?" Ed observed, taking the lead and bounding out of the house, making sure to lock the door before striding purposefully over to the car. "Unlike Ling, who couldn't even spring for a one-night stay in Central. That's coming out of my own pockets you know."

"I'm sure the women will be grateful," Al told him but Ed refused to make any remark to the statement, getting into the driver's seat and buckling up.

From there, the car ride to Central passed in relative ease. Al seemed to have reduced his tension and was able to slip into an easy (if not entirely romantic) banter with Mei in the backseat of the car. Clearly, it wasn't the most romantic place for Al to begin his proposal plan, but it would have to do for now. Meanwhile, Winry didn't seem so bent on her earlier foul attitude and was now chatting (somewhat) animatedly with her husband as he drove the car. It was the relatively early evening when the four arrived in Central and checked in at the hotel where they were registered. After that was taken care of, it was just a few blocks of walking to where the streams of people were flowing in.

"Tickets, please," said a rather burly man at the entrance. Ed presented the item of admittance to him and they were all quickly ushered inside. As soon as they had stepped foot in the crowded ballroom, Al and Mei split off to go and greet Ling and his entourage, leaving the young married couple standing there rather awkwardly.

"So…" Winry breathed, rocking back and forth somewhat on her heeled shoes.

"Food?"

"Sounds great." Ed quickly took his wife's arm and the two of them expertly weaved through the crowd on their way over to the food table, hunger grumbling in both of their stomachs. "Ah, Ed, my scarf, I think it-"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I must have brushed too close to you, got caught." The sudden intrusion of the masculine voice into his thoughts caused Ed to turn and face the man who had caught Winry's scarf. Instantly, he recognized the face, despite having never met the man before. "I hope I haven't held you up."

"No, you haven't," Ed answered him politely. "You're Prince Claudio, aren't you?" Winry seemed surprised and held her returned scarf almost reverently.

"I am, and you are?" The question had not been asked unkindly, and Ed quickly clasped the man's hand in greeting.

"Edward and Winry Elric, we're, uh…I guess you could say we're friends of President Ling."

"Aha, Ling, interesting man, wouldn't you say?" Claudio pondered with a smile.

"That's one way of putting it," Ed noted, and Winry stealthily elbowed him, causing a grimace that seemed to have gone unnoticed by the crown prince of Aerugo.

"He is a large part of the reason for this party. Had he and his father not sued for peace, we would not be standing here today," Claudio remarked. "Well, I really must be off, plenty of delegates to meet. Pleasure meeting you Mr. and Mrs. Elric." With a final wave, he was off, leaving the two mere feet from the food table. A glance was exchanged between the two in slight awe, and almost like ghosts, they floated over to the luscious table of food.

"Never in my life did I think we'd meet these kinds of people, Ed," Winry remarked as she grabbed a plate and started loading food on it.

"I know; it's like some bizarre dream. People like us shouldn't do meet and greets with the rulers of nations," Ed said, grabbing a sandwich off a platter, pivoting towards his wife. "What on earth are you eating?"

"What, it's just fish and mustard with some…I think it's okra?" Winry's thoughtful look only drew more skepticism from Ed as he stared at his wife in utter surprise.

"I know that…but my question is why? Why do you have fish, mustard, and okra on the same plate?"

"I felt hungry for it, okay?" she snapped peevishly and Ed quickly backed away from the subject, not wanting to deal with any of Winry's more foul moods this evening. "Oh, look, it's Detective Mustang! Let's go say hi." Happy to leave the disgusting plate behind (though not his sandwich), he followed his wife over to the sharply dressed, charcoal-haired detective and his date, who was none other than Riza Hawkeye.

Ed was surprised to see the woman looking so loose. For all his encounters with her (even the impromptu one several mornings ago) she was the pinnacle of professionalism. Now, here she was, decked out in a rather sultry red dress with her hair down and an actual, genuine smile on her face, and not just one born of a witty joke or necessary situation. She still seemed to hold her professional head high, but Ed was very quick to discern the difference between Riza Hawkeye and Detective Hawkeye.

"Just the one time, was it, Mustang?" he jeered as the married couple approached the apparently affable duo. He saw Roy's eyes twitch as he turned towards the younger man.

"Fullmetal, I didn't see you there," he remarked, causing Ed's smirk to drop from his face. "Rather, I didn't know that you'd be coming."

"'Cause I'm entirely sure you missed my outburst at the station yesterday when you were sitting ten feet away?"

"So, you actually _do_ know when you're being an insufferable brat!"

"Just as I see you haven't learned when you're an annoying bastard." Suddenly a more feminine voice interjected itself into the conversation.

"Roy, behave yourself."

"Same goes for you, Ed." Ed pouted at Winry's soft smile, but scolding touch, as she moved to greet the female detective. "I don't think we've met. I'm Winry Elric, and you're-"

"Roy's partner…well, I guess that's not the case anymore. Riza Hawkeye." The two women greeted each other amiably while the men turned away. "So, you're Edward's wife, he talks about you quite often."

"Does he now?" Ed tried to slink away from the awkward conversation but Mustang's barking laugh all but stopped him. "Well, he can be sweet. Are you and Mr. Mustang together?"

"Hardly…" Roy seemed to not want to hear anymore and departed, aiming for the food table. Ed followed the man, leaning against the table as Roy grabbed a roll, munching on it viciously.

"You didn't seem pleased by her response," Ed observed and the older man grunted. "What, did you really think she would say you were together?"

"I didn't expect anything," he confessed. "I just don't like being here. Sure, a date would be nice but not when it's set up by her grandfather."

"Chief Grumman?" Roy looked at him in surprise and Ed tapped his head thoughtfully. "I heard Grumman muttering about it during our meeting with him." The two men softly chuckled, their eyes getting a quick bead on their dates, both of whom seemed to still be lost in conversation. As their chuckles died down, the most pleasant silence they had ever shared settled between them.

That is, until a loud crash resounded near them (though very few other heads turned). Followed by the crash was a high-pitched and panicked, "Sorry, sorry…so sorry."

"It's fine, you didn't ruin my dress," replied the woman. "You're that little detective I met the other day, aren't you?" Ed craned his neck to finally get a glimpse of the two conversationalists. The man, who had evidently dropped a rather large platter of food, was short and chubby while the woman he was talking to was anything but. To Ed's eye, she was either trying to stand out from the crowd, with her black sequined dress, or she was trying to seduce someone. Roy perked up beside him and both focused their attentions on the conversation.

"D-detective Vorac, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am; it makes me sound so old. Just call me Solaris."

"Yes, ma'am…I-I mean Solust, er, Solaris." The man's stuttering was starting to draw attention and Solaris was scowling at the prospect of it. "Where…where's your new boyfriend?"

"Oh, he's here somewhere," she said with a laugh. "I hardly find it necessary right now to search for him, if you know what I mean?"

"Of-of course. I understand perfectly."

"Good, well, take care of yourself, Detective Vorac…and don't be so messy next time you see a pretty girl walking your way." Solaris quickly took her leave and Ed pulled away to check on his wife. Pleased to see he could notice her in the crowd, he directed his sight to the watch on his wrist.

"Sorry to see that my presence bores you," Mustang remarked.

"I didn't say that."

"It's fine, Fullmetal. We should probably get back to our dates anyway." Ed chose not to respond as he and Roy maneuvered their way back to Riza and Winry. The head detective quickly took his date's arm, and both of the women immediately took it as a sign that it was time to part from one another.

"Well, it was wonderful to meet you Mrs. Elric," Riza confessed with a smile and Winry gave off an infectious laugh.

"Just Winry, and it was good to meet you, too, Miss Riza. You should stop by sometime." The two women finished exchanging their goodbyes before both Roy and Riza vanished into the crowds. Winry quickly rounded on Ed. "You sent them away, didn't you?"

"I did not!" he protested violently, quickly glancing down at his watch again. They were out of time. "I'm just running on a very tight schedule, here."

We're at a party…what kind of schedule could you possibly have?" Ed sighed, grabbing his wife's arm firmly, jerking her towards a pair of open double doors. She made sounds of protest for a moment but he purposefully ignored them, pressing on through the portal created by the doors and into the open air of the garden. "Ed, what are we doing here?"

"I saw Al and Mei leave through these doors earlier," he informed her. A quick look told him that she was angry with him, whipping her scarf closer to her with a look of pure poison.

"Your point is?" Winry countered and Ed ignored her again, striding further into the garden. She quickly followed him until he stopped behind a row of semi-tall hedges. Peeking over, he saw Al and Mei sitting on a stone bench, talking quietly. He saw Al's hands fumble with the ring box inside his pocket for a moment. "Ed! If Al and Mei want to-oh!" The exclamatory noise had tumbled from her throat so jarringly that Ed reacted all too quickly, shoving the both of them beneath the sight of the hedge.

"And you say that I'm the loud one, Winry. You almost blew our cover!" he hissed in a hushed tone and Winry wasted no time in slapping his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, you didn't exactly tell me Al was planning to propose to Mei right now!"

"Generally, people don't say anything when plans are secret." He hastily fitted his hand through a thin piece of hedge and was able to look through. He felt Winry's body heat press up against him as she clamored for a look as well. From their position they were able to see Al quickly get onto one knee and Ed could tell his wife was about to squeal, otherwise he wouldn't have felt her hands digging into his shoulder. He strained his ear, hoping to hear something of the conversation through the hedge. What he did hear was something else entirely.

"Edward, is that you?" Ed wheeled around into a once more upright position, dragging his wife with him.

"Hohenheim…what are you doing here?" Ed snapped at him and Hohenheim's brow creased with confusion and pleading.

"I'm here on official University business…President Dante asked me to come. We go a long way back, the two of us." He seemed to be remembering some past time with the woman that was currently president. Ed's scowl deepened. "Actually, though, I'm surprised you're here. Alphonse didn't mention you'd be coming when he called."

"Probably because of what happened the last time we met." The man didn't seem to hear him whatsoever, and it only served to agitate him further.

"And you must be Winry! I haven't seen you since you and Edward were playmates," Hohenheim said with a slight crinkling to his eyes. "You're the spitting image of your mother."  
>"Oh, I wouldn't say that, but thank you for the compliment," Winry said with a kindness that Ed knew wasn't forced. A slight pang touched his heart as he realized how easily his own wife could converse with the man he refused to call his father. One of those very rare but very potent feelings of longing welled up within him. Part of him truly did was to know the man who was supposedly his father, but part of him couldn't just accept the abandonment he had left him and Al to. Winry's voice floated back to him and he gritted his teeth. She didn't even have a father and here he was, completely denying his. He was about to open his mouth to say something but he found his father was already walking away.<p>

"Where's he going?" Ed asked with a small bark to his voice.

"Not sure…something about talking with the commissioner," Winry answered him and he shrugged. Any soft feelings he had developed for the man in the last minute were now completely gone. "Wanna dance?"

"Sure. Why not?" Ed took her hand and led her back inside. The ballroom was still swarming with people, the mass seeming even larger now. The band was finally playing music and Ed and Winry quickly locked hands, beginning to sway to the lively music.

"We haven't danced like this since our wedding." Ed just grunted in agreement as Winry laid her head on his shoulders. "It's nice."

Ed couldn't help but agree, closing his eyes for a moment. At least, until he suddenly bumped into someone and the moment between the couple was ruined. "Hey! You're Edward Elric! Dad! Hey, over here!"

"What is it, Selim?" Ed recognized that voice with a small amount of trepidation and snapped himself forward to face the man before him, Winry mimicking his actions not even a second later. "Ah, Fullmetal, it's good to see you again."

"Hello Commissioner, good to see you, too. Th-this is my wife, Winry," Ed garbled out. He knew he wasn't completely himself, but in the presence of Commissioner Bradley it was hard to _not_ be intimidated. Surveying the Bradley family quickly revealed a portrait of one of the most influential families in Amestris. From the young teenage Selim Bradley, whose height was starting to get near his father's; to the demure and kind Mrs. Bradley whose arm was looped through her husband's.

"Charmed." However, Commissioner Bradley was the most recognizable with his thick moustache and jet black hair that had just a few streaks of gray. His eyes lit up with an unspoken kindness, but behind them you could see the hardness that would befit one with the title of Commissioner. "But, Fullmetal, I'm rather surprised to see you here."

"My brother is dating," Ed started to explain before catching a glimpse of a tousled Al and Mei, a diamond ring sitting on Mei's finger, "make that engaged, to President Yao's sister."

"Ah, makes sense…and I thought I spotted Head Detective Mustang around here with Detective Hawkeye as well, if I'm not mistaken." To Ed's ears, it almost sounded like a threat and, for some reason, he quickly leapt to the defense of the two.

"Yeah, that would be Ling-I mean, President Yao's doing as well. He kind of invited all the detectives at East PD so Mustang and Hawkeye came together 'cause they didn't have any time to find dates before then…" Bradley surveyed him with such a serious look that even Winry tensed up next to him, afraid the Commissioner would see through his lie.

Then he laughed so jubilantly all the tension was melted away.

"Oh, what a laugh. East always does come up with some good stories." Ed and Winry forced out some awkward laughter as well to not seem suspicious. "Incidentally, how do you like it over at East? I heard you had quite the tangle with a serial killer over there."

"I-I like it. I'm sure Winry's glad I'm there, too."

"Well, I like it when I get to see my husband more than twice a week!"

"I'm more than glad to hea-" Bradley cut himself off as a heavy set man (who Ed noticed was the one that let them in) approached him. He seemed to be nothing more than a sluggish brute but the things he whispered to Bradley remained unheard by everyone else. Bradley quickly checked his watch and nodded. "All right, then. I'm sorry everyone but it appears there is an issue which I must attend to. I guess that's what happens when you contract to an outside security team. Am I right Mr. Indol?"

"I suppose so, sir," the man responded to him. Bradley quickly bid everyone a farewell before leaving with the man. A slightly awkward pause passed between the remaining four until Winry turned to the young Selim.

"So, uh, Selim, are you planning on joining the police force like your father?" she asked and he turned to her with a smile and a nod.

"Once I finish high school, I'm going to major in Criminal Justice before joining the department," Selim answered her as his mother placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, Selim does admire his father so; it's quite sweet," Mrs. Bradley gushed. "Oh, it reminds me of when I met him, granting he was only Officer Bradley back then, but he had quite a heart…I remember how he'd tell me his dreams for the future and-"

"Mother!" Selim whined and the older woman seemed to finally realize that she had been rambling, At Selim's reminder, she quickly glanced down to her wristwatch. "Do we have to be going?"

"Yes, plenty of other dignitaries to speak with. A pleasure to meet you both."

"Bye Mister Edward!" Ed and Winry gave them each a parting wave until they were out of sight and Winry gave an obvious shudder.

"So, that's what a hurricane feels like, huh?" Winry voiced and Ed chuckled nervously.

"You felt it too?" Winry afforded him a nod as a loud drone of applause cascaded around the room. Both of their heads turned towards the large and ornate stage, and Ed transfixed his eyes on the woman who appeared to be around Hohenheim's age standing on the stage. Her black hair, which was flecked with gray, was tied up in a bun and she wore a smile on her face.

"Fellow citizens of Amestris!" she called to the crowd at large and at once everyone seemed to fall silent. "I welcome you to this gala for the most momentous of occasions: the ending to the Xing-Aerugo Naval War!" More shuddering applause followed and even Ed found himself joining in. President Dante raised her hands again to silence the crowd, focusing her energy into her next words. "Yes, yes, although the treaty will not be signed until tomorrow, I feel it is enough cause for celebration tonight. For that, I present to you President Ling Yao of the recently named Republic of Xing, whose efforts are to thank for this."

As President Dante walked back from her position, Ed was able to see Ling stand up and walk to where the president had been. Behind him he had caught sight of Prince Claudio, as well as a few other dignitaries, including Lan Fan. The clapping that had started at the announcement of Ling tapered off and Ling stood there with his trademark Cheshire grin.

"People of Amestris, it is with great pleasure that I stand in your beautiful hall today as an emissary of peace for my country. Long did my father wish for peace in his failing years, and now at last, I can tell him that his dream will become a reality in the halls of your coun-"

_BANG!_

It had happened so suddenly, but Ed reacted instantly, dropping to the floor and pulling Winry with him. The crowd rose in a tide of seething panic as some tried to stampede out of the hall, others tried to hide under tables and still others followed Ed's example, bringing them and their loved ones to the floor. Ed quickly looked up to get a survey of the area. A brief glance told him that both Al and Mei were okay, huddling together over by the food table. His gaze swiveled to the stage where he saw that Lan Fan had quickly protected Ling, who was very clearly alive and well.

Ed's eyes narrowed. The shot had been fired at the participants on the stage; that much had been clear the moment that no other shots were fired. But if Ling was alive then who-? His eyes very swiftly latched onto the body of Prince Claudio, blood pouring across his attire. Next to him, President Dante was frazzled and being pulled away by her bodyguards, making hand motions that suggested she wanted the body cleaned up as soon as possible.

"Ed, what's going on? !" Winry screamed out, more to be heard than out of any fear.

"I don't-" Ed didn't get very far in his statement. A security officer had run past, his walkie-talkie blaring loudly. It was impossible. There was no reason for that man to be here. But at that moment, it didn't matter. He had information, and now he had to act on it. "Stay here!"

It was a very brisk command and a confusing one as well, so it didn't surprise him that Winry called after him. Ed blocked her voice out as he let his feet guide him, heading deep into the writhing mass of people that was in an exodus to the exterior. As soon as he had broken to the outside air, Ed split away, following a detachment of security guards. He promptly arrived at his destination and was surprised to find not only the Commissioner but Detectives Mustang, Havoc, and Breda as well. The Commissioner waved him over as soon as he saw him.

"I heard there was a suspect…over one of the guards' radios," Ed explained to them. Bradley was the one to answer him.

"Yes, though those incompetent security guards couldn't even get a hair off him. At best, we have a rough description of him: tanned skin, a cross-shaped scar on his forehead, tattoos on his right arm, and red eyes."

"An Ishvalan?" Mustang blurted out, surprise in his voice.

"Scar," Ed spat, causing the other four to look at him curiously. "Or, at least, that's what he's called. We never found out what his real name is."

"Yes, well, whatever the case may be, he is a criminal and we must capture him." Bradley's face was stone cold, and an unbridled wrath burned in his eyes.

"So, where do we start, sir?" Mustang crisply requested.

"_We_ will start nowhere. The Central City Department will handle it from here." Bradley informed them and Ed found his fists clenching and his body shaking. "What I need from you men is to take your loved ones here at the gala and go to wherever you're staying at. Provide an example to all those other panicking people."

Ed knew there was no way to argue with the commissioner, so he quickly nodded and headed back towards the extruding crowd, feeling all the eyes on his back the whole while. It wasn't until he got inside that he was waylaid.

"Where are you staying, Fullmetal?" Mustang's voice was insistent and Ed knew better than to protest against the man.

"Hotel Amestria."

"Good. So are we." Ed tried to wrestle away from Mustang's hand, but failed spectacularly. "Grab your family and we'll go together." It was hard to say no to the hand hanging on his shoulder. So it was that roughly a quarter of an hour later, Ed found himself walking out with the rest of his family and Mustang's entourage. However, no sooner had they dropped them all off at the hotel than Mustang had tightly gripped Ed's arm and steered him from the building.

"Hey, what's with the kidnapper act?" Ed protested, but Mustang continued to drag him along.

"Don't try to snow me, Fullmetal!"

"'Snow me'…who even uses those words anymore?"

"Are you trying to tell me I'm old?"

"No, I'm trying to figure out where the hell you're taking me!" Mustang sighed, but didn't relent in his procession until they had walked through a pair of doors to a dimly lit bar. To Ed's observation, it was empty except for an older woman behind the counter who was lazily smoking a cigarette.

"So, it's true, is it? Prince Claudio was assassinated?" the woman said as Roy pulled up a stool and indicated that Ed should do the same. He contemplated running, but determined there was no point to it.

"Your ability to gather information still astounds me to this day, Madam Christmas."

"My girls called from the party and I got the gist of it." The woman quickly took out a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter before him.

"I was wondering why this place was so empty."

"It's Sunday. I close early." She promptly diffused her cigarette in an ash tray and proceeded to walk away. "There's more drinks behind the counter. I'm going to bed." Roy quickly thanked her and started pouring himself a glass.

"You drink?"

"No."

"Hmph…neither do I," Roy professed, pushing his filled glass away from him. "So…Scar? Sounds like you know him."

"I don't know him, but I know a lot about him." Roy nodded, glancing at Ed in question. "He killed Winry's parents in Ishval. They worked at a hospital he blew up."

"The Ishvalan Bomber, huh?" Roy picked up his glass once again and toyed with his drink, as if contemplating the merits of drinking it. "Looks like you and I are more connected than I ever thought."

"I suppose so." Silence followed, broken only by the ticking of the clock and the clinking of ice in Roy's glass. It seemed to be an eon before Roy spoke again.

"Ed." It was the use of his simple name that sparked his interest and forced him to look at the sullen detective.

"Let me tell you a story. The story of Maes Hughes."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: The next chapter is one I'm really looking forward to. What this mean's is that I've already started on it and it's a big one. Obviously, the events in this chapter were pretty big which means we're very close to the second half of this story. Anyway, that's all I have to say. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, I hope you all return and more. I'd love to see lots of reviews. Make sure to let me know if you're interested in my proposition at the top of the page and take the time to vote in my poll. In the meantime, review and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	11. Chapter 11

**I now present to you the story of Maes Hughes, something that has been in the works since I wrote the first word of this story. Enjoy!**

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><p><span>Chapter 11<span>

_Let me tell you a story. The story of Maes Hughes._

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><p>"Cadet, state your name!"<p>

"Mustang, Roy, sir!" shouted a proud, if still only twenty-year old, Roy Mustang. His gaze was steely in the face of his Police Academy instructor. The instructor stared him up and down, as if sniffing for any source of weakness.

"Well then, Cadet Mustang, if an assailant flees from you into a crowd of moving people, should you fire a warning shot, push people away to get to him, or let him escape?" Mustang's eyes flashed and he forced himself to stand a little taller.

"Does it have to be multiple choice, sir? Because it seems to me that _none_ of those are the right action to take." A small smirk snaked across the instructor's face, which encouraged the young cadet to go on. "Since most officers work as partners, it would be more efficient and far less hazardous to keep an eye on the assailant and radio your partner who can position themselves to take the offender down."

There was a small, uncomfortable silence and Mustang felt that although none of the other cadets' eyes were on him, each of them were angry that he seemed to have spoken out of turn. Moments later, the instructor laughed. "Well, cadets, you should consider yourselves lucky. Cadet Mustang answered my question correctly, which means that I can let all of you go to lunch. You have half an hour."

The cadets relaxed and most of them scurried off to the academy cafeteria, a relieved sweat breaking across each of their faces. None of them talked to one another, each of them just trying to get out of the room. Roy shook his head with a smile. Clearly, they were all missing the point of the lesson: "Trust your partner." He didn't like it, but he understood. He felt a sharp jerk on his shoulder and a brusque "show off" next to his ear, earning the other cadet a scowl.

"Yeah, well maybe if you actually knew the answer to the question, Dora, he wouldn't have to," snapped one of he remaining cadets in the room, and it was no surprise to Roy that the man named Dora quickly gave him the middle finger. "Well, at least he's a lively one."

"That's one way of looking at it." Roy turned to look at the man, who was in the middle of cleaning his glasses. As he placed his glasses back on, he noticed the man did look rather bookish, his thick black bangs framing his somewhat square-ish face. Not wanting to be caught staring, Roy turned away and started his own procession to the cafeteria. The sound of clattered steps told him that the young man had caught up to him.

"Honestly, I thought he would chew you out for being so cheeky, but I guess he was impressed."

"Are you trying to say something?" Roy nipped out, and his unwanted companion held out his hands in defense. "If you're so good, why don't you answer his questions?"

"I'd be glad to, if he asked me."

"You knew what the answer was, then?" The man shrugged his shoulders as the two entered the cafeteria.

"I guessed the answer wouldn't be in the question before he even finished asking it." Roy grunted as the two of them picked up their trays. "What I'm more interested in is you. You didn't even flinch, and you rattled off your answer without a beat."

"It wasn't that hard of a question."

"I agree, but the other cadets were ready to piss their pants." The woman in the cafeteria loaded a pile of mashed potatoes on his tray before the man continued on. "In other words, they don't know the police bylaws like they know themselves, but you know things that we should know at the end of the year. It's impressive…in a scary way."

"Who asked you?" Roy growled, and the man laughed a rather contagious laugh, making Roy turn away to hide his reluctant smile.

"Hey, I didn't mean any offense. Maes Hughes." The man held his hand out and Roy took it gladly. The man might've been insistently annoying, but he was sincere in his gesture.

"Roy Mustang," he said, looking into the man's spectacled eyes with a smile. The two pulled away from the servers and went to find a table.

"I think I got who you were when you announced it," Hughes said, tapping his fork to his head as they sat down and looked at their lunch trays. "Although, I'm not really sure what this is."

"The Grey Ooze of the PAC. It's why I usually don't eat the food here," Roy told him with a quiet laugh. "So, Hughes, what are you here for? I mean, everyone's got a reason for becoming a cop. What's yours?"

"Mostly family. My dad's a fireman and my mom runs the shop back home. I'm not cut out for that fiery stuff, but I did want to serve my country in a way. What about you?"

"Oh…just a promise I want to keep." Roy didn't care to elaborate, but he was still interested in the man sitting in front of him. "Planning to make detective, then?"

"That's the plan. I like using my brain, you know."

"Seems simple enough."

"The reasons are always simple. Mine is just that I don't want to die some fiery death!" Hughes laughed again, as though he found the thought rather funny. "Are you going for detective as well?"

"Would it surprise you if I said I wanted to be commissioner?" Roy thought he'd be surprised, but Hughes instead seemed to be observing him, contemplating the words he had spoken.

"Change this country, huh? Idealistic, but not very realistic, don't you think?"

"You think I'm a fool, don't you?"

"Not at all," Hughes admitted, leaning back in his chair. "I think this country needs more idealists like you. Bradley's a pragmatist. Sure, he's efficient, but ultimately, you have to wonder if the people under him think of it as a job or a calling."

"I take it you don't care for the man."

"He's been commissioner for ten years. We need new blood." Roy tapped his fork against his plate, thinking about what he was saying when Hughes suddenly leaned forward, a gleam in his eyes. "But if you're shooting for the top, I'd put myself behind you."

"But you just met me." Roy's hurried words revealed his eagerness to get an ally.

"And I already feel like I'm your partner. Don't forget, Roy, trust your partner." Hughes smirked and Roy repeated the actions. Something about Hughes said he was trustworthy, and as Roy extended his hand, he was more than grateful to have found a partner.

"Well then, Maes Hughes, I think this is the start of a wonderful partnership."

"I prefer friendship, but the feeling's mutual, Roy Mustang."

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><p><em>Hughes and I had plans, and the both of us strove to make the top of our class at the academy. We graduated soon after, and started making roads with the new cadets and the higher-ups. We had a fifty percent chance to be stationed at Ishval, and in the end, we did.<em>

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><p>"Roy, you won't believe it! She's the most remarkable girl!" Hughes said exultantly and Roy was more than prepared to claw his face off. It was bad enough that his best friend never shut up about his parents back home, but now it appeared that he had found a girlfriend.<p>

"Yes, I know…you've only told me fifteen times in the last five minutes," Roy grumbled, but as usual, Hughes was completely oblivious. Rubbing his eyes from exhaustion, the two stepped into the police station. It had been another long night in Ishval, and Roy's throat was dry. The desert wind and desert nights were definitely not good for the health of anybody, but he and Hughes had drawn the proverbial short stick and were shifted for night duty.

It had been more than disgusting. If he had known, he would've petitioned for a transfer out of Ishval. But he was stuck in the middle of it now, and if he ran then, how could he ever be a commissioner? No, this was great training, and a great motivator for the future. Ishval was hell and Roy Mustang would make it his solemn vow to improve it once he became commissioner. That way, night officers wouldn't have to stop ten rapes per night or prevent criminals from burning down Ishvalan churches.

"Roy, are you even listening to me?" called Hughes and Roy removed his hand from his face. "Honestly, here I am trying to tell you something and you're just-"

"Yeah, it's not like I haven't heard it all before. Hughes, I even know what kind of shampoo this girl uses."

"She's not just this girl!" Hughes sounded offended, and Roy could hardly stop himself from snorting. "The nerve! Her name is Gracia, and she uses cherry blossom, I'll have you know."

"Yes, I already know all this, and that's the point." Roy signed himself in before turning back to his friend with his eyes prepared to roll. "Hughes, I should not know what shampoo your girlfriend uses. No one should know, but by now, I'm sure the entirety of the station knows."

"Oh, don't exaggerate," he responded, signing his name down onto the sheet. Roy cleared his throat and turned to the black-haired man who was getting coffee with his bald partner.

"Hey, Charlie, what kind of shampoo does Hughes' girlfriend use?" Roy called to him and he turned his head to answer him.

"Gracia…cherry blossoms, I thought," Charlie answered and Hughes' mouth seemed to simply fall open in shock. "I also know that she's a Capricorn, and loves making quiche and apple pie." Roy and the bald man laughed at Hughes' open-faced surprise.

"You're not trying to make a move on her, are you?"

"Hughes, I've never even met the chick! I just know that stuff because _you_ never shut up about her."

"Yeah…well, where's your girlfriend?" The question seemed to certainly sober Charlie up, but Roy's chuckles turned to full-on guffawing as he turned back to the bulk of the station. His laughter petered out immediately as he caught sight of the short, blonde hair, and the woman sitting alone. "What're you looking at Roy?"

"Nothing." He realized all too late that he had spoken too quickly, and Hughes' eyes narrowed in speculation. It took only a moment for him to figure out the object of Roy's attention and make it known to him.

"Hey, she's kind of cute! You should go for it, Roy!" Roy twitched in agitation but decided that it would indeed be better for him to strip the man of any delusions of double-dating. Flipping his bangs, Roy headed into the main station for some food.

"Not happening, Hughes. I was just surprised to see her is all."

"You _know_ her?" Roy immediately grabbed a muffin off a tray and started munching on it while the black-haired and bespectacled officer surveyed him. "Oh, so she's like a childhood sweetheart?"

"Will you can it, Hughes? Not everything's about love!" Tossing the muffin wrapper in the trash can, Roy stepped away from the table and found himself subconsciously heading for the younger woman. "Riza, it's been a while."

"O-officer Mustang!" Riza instantly stood at attention and Roy looked her over. She had changed; changed since those long nights spent together, wondering if her father would ever come home from the office. Changed from the time he had kissed her at her father's funeral and uttered words of apologies. "I didn't know you were at Ishval, sir." Sir? That was a new one. He had been called any number of nicknames from pissant to cadet to officer, but never sir. And he had certainly never heard it from her.

"I've been here a while…though I didn't expect to see you here. I thought you were going into law."

"I believed my services would be best used as an _officer_ of the law."

"Riza, is this becau-"

"I make this choice of my own volition, nothing else." Riza's face became stone cold in this moment, and he knew instantly that Riza Hawkeye was buried; buried beneath the sadness, guilt and shame of her father's death. Now she was Officer Hawkeye, and it pained him to see her so. Pained him to see the woman he had grown to love become so cold. "My father may have wished for me to become a lawyer, like him, to carry on the family name and help you when you reached the top…but those were my father's wishes, not mine. I have found a better way to support your dream."

How could he respond to such an honest display? Roy lowered his head in thought, but was spared the need to answer by a laugh that filled the station. Roy's lips twitched in displeasure and he noticed Riza shudder slightly next to him. He scoffed. It was no surprise, considering everyone but the recent cadets (like her) knew who was about to enter the room.

"Oh, doctor, your words wound me!" cried the voice, forcing Roy to grimace in expectation.

"Officer Kimblee, I really wish you would take our sessions together seriously. Threatening civilians is a sign of mental disorder and the department needs to make sure you won't go shooting people off just because you didn't catch a crook." The doctor who had said these words stepped out and pushed his glasses up. Like any number of officers or other officials in the area, the department psychologist was Ishvalan and had the distinct appearance of having had many years of education.

"While your words are humbling, doctor, they're hardly necessary," Kimblee insisted and the psychologist had a shadow of annoyance cross over his face. "I'm a working man like everyone here. Shouldn't you praise my work ethic instead of acting like I'm the first to do these potential crimes of heresy."

"Ugh, fine. I'll see you next week Kimblee," the psychologist muttered and Kimblee's only response was his usual laugh. Roy couldn't stand that laugh. Of course, he couldn't stand Kimblee; most of the man's partners even couldn't. From his glance over at Riza, he could tell she was already repulsed by him as well.

"Kimblee's a real nut job, huh?" came Hughes' voice from next to him and Roy simply nodded without thinking. "I swear, one day, he's going to get this entire department killed. Oh, and who's this little lady? I'm Maes Hughes!"

"Officer Riza Hawkeye."

"She your girlfriend, Roy? Not too shabby." Roy could faintly hear Riza denying the claims to a steadfast Hughes, but for the most part, his mind and eyes were elsewhere, focused on the black-haired and equally black-hearted officer that was Solf J. Kimblee. He was unsure how a man like that had passed his preliminary psych evaluation, but he did know at least one thing: he never wanted to be like him.

* * *

><p>"Explain to me, Hughes, why I'm spending my first day off in months meeting your girlfriend?" Roy asked, an eyebrow quirked towards his friend.<p>

"I told you that you could bring Riza along and make it a double date. You're the one who refused to ask her."

"How many times do I have to tell you: she's not my girlfriend!" Sometimes, Roy just couldn't stand how Hughes would hear one thing but then interpret it as something totally different. "Besides that, she's working today. I can't exactly pull her from her traffic duty to meet _your_ girlfriend."

"Oh, c'mon, Roy, you know you love her." Roy grit his teeth and flexed his fingers, as though he wanted to strangle the man. Hughes, completely oblivious, merely bounded up the porch of the white East City house and rang the doorbell. It was moments later that the door swung open to reveal a mousy haired woman with a petite figure and a bright smile. "A bunch of roses for a woman who is far prettier than them."

"Maes, you flatter me far too much," the woman said, taking the roses from him and retreating into the house for a minute. Roy found his eyelids closing in boredom until the sound of the house door snapping shut quickly made him alert. "Is this your friend?"

"Yup, this is Roy." Practically against his wishes, Roy felt his entire body being moved to face the woman that he more than suspected was Hughes' girlfriend. "Roy, this is Gracia Mullins. Isn't she just the most beautiful woman?"

Roy suppressed a snort as he shook Gracia's hand, uttering a simple, "Pleasure."

"Likewise. Maes mentions you quite often," she remarked as the trio headed back to Hughes' car, "something about a dream of yours. He rarely expands on it."

"I'm not surprised, given that 99% of the time, all he does is talk about how great you are." The two shared a laugh, though Hughes happened to remain completely unmindful of it. "I guess you could call him a dutiful boyfriend."

"I suppose. What about yourself, Roy? Any girlfriends?"

"No, he just likes to make people think that," Hughes uttered, causing Roy to shoot him a nasty look from the backseat of the car. "Anyone who really knows him knows that those dates are just a façade to cover his pining over Riza."

"So you can admit that the two of us aren't dating?"

"I never said you weren't dating," Hughes stated as though it were sheer fact. "I only said that you love her, which I'll note you have yet to contradict me." Roy allowed himself to be reduced to a mass of grumbling as Gracia tittered lightly.

"Well, I'm sure things will work out," she responded as encouragement.

"Yeah, sure, once the anti-fraternization policy is repealed." That seemed to close the subject for the entire outing; an outing which Roy had to admit was quite pleasant. Gracia truly was as sweet as Maes had elaborated upon, constantly drawing Roy into conversation and even laughing when Roy and he got involved in a spoon war that the broody officer would never admit to starting. Sure, he had to deal with his best friend's occasional outbursts of love, but by the time the two were on their way from the Mullins household and back to Ishval, Roy only had one question remaining.

"So, when's the wedding?"

"You approve of her, then?" Hughes asked, a bright smile on his face which even Roy emulated.

"I think next time we should bring Riza along." Roy knew there was something in his voice that made Hughes clap his back and thank him for coming along. The man could only respond in one way: "I've always got your back, Hughes. Trust your partner, remember."

He could tell those words meant the world to Hughes.

* * *

><p>The next few months were most certainly the happiest that Roy could remember having in Ishval. Captain Fesler of the Ishval PD had finally moved Mustang and Hughes off of night duty and the two of them were finally first-rate responders, with the mayor of Ishval, Logue Lowe, actually giving them a commendation. In that same amount of time, Riza had been moved off traffic duty and both she and Roy were at last in a comfortable rhythm with one another, which also extended to their interactions with Maes and Gracia. On that side of things, it also appeared that the two lovebirds were thinking about moving in with each other, so they were looking for apartments near to both East City and Ishval.<p>

"Hey, Roy, do you know if Riza's in today? I think Gracia left something at her apartment the other night, but it kept slipping my mind," Hughes asked him as the two grabbed a cup of coffee before preparing to go on their patrol.

"No, she had a late shift last night, so I'd imagine she's catching up on sleep," he answered and Hughes hummed thoughtfully. "Did you hear, by the way?"

"Hear what?"

"It was all over this morning's paper, and the detectives are panicking about it," Roy prefaced his information with, and his partner looked at him expectantly. "Apparently, the department psychologist was found murdered last night."

"The psychologist? Who would want to kill him?" It took barely a second of thought before Hughes seemed to answer his own question. "Other than Kimblee, of course. How many times had he been referred to the psychologist in the last few weeks, let alone since we graduated from the academy?" Roy shook his head, still wondering how Kimblee had managed to become an officer. Finishing his drink, Roy quickly tossed it into the trash can and dusted his hands off.

_BOOM! ! !_

All at once, it was like a blast of hot air tunneled down the hallway. Roy felt himself thrown backward and slammed against a window pane. He fell to the floor and immediately sought to cover his body from the glass and debris raining overhead. Even with his preventative measure, his back ached something fierce and he could feel the blood trickling from the cuts on his arms. Thanks to the falling debris, dust was scattered across the entire station and he choked on it, hacking and wheezing as the aftereffects of the blast finally settled.

Slowly, the young officer stood, coughing as he did so and called out, "Hughes!"

"I'm here, Roy. I'm fine, though I can't say that for the rest of the station. Damn…" Roy had finally made it over to his partner, whose only injury seemed to be a bruise on his arm where the trash can had been flung into him. "Who the heck would bomb a police station?"

As if in an answer, a wicked laugh rose up from the flames that were now engulfing the front part of the station. From within the embers, Roy could see the form of a uniformed officer, his black hair tied in a ponytail that was swaying with the fire itself. "Oh, did you hear that sound? ! What a joyous, cacophonous sound! The smell of an explosion reeking in the air, a veritable chorus of cries. This is what Ishval is all about: a symphony of destruction!"

"Kimblee!" Mustang roared at him and, forgetting his status as an officer for a moment (and perhaps even himself), the young man pinned Kimblee against a wall. "What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, Mustang. I was just reveling in the joyous-"

"Don't you dare try to pull that crap on me! What the fuck did you do?"

"Roy!" Hughes warning passed briefly and ignored. Kimblee only scoffed.

"Don't give me that holier than thou, Roy Mustang!" Kimblee's eyes intensified and for a moment, even Mustang was scared of him. Amidst the dancing flames, Kimblee's gleaming mouth and widened eyes only served to reinforce the image of a demon laughing in glee. "As an officer, you should understand that sometimes sacrifices need to be made for a noble cause. I'm sure whoever did this felt the same way. Sure, it's a shame some officers had to die, but it was just collateral, to reach that ultimate goal. Come on, Mustang, surely you must agree."

"I'm not a nut job like you!" Mustang seethed, but Kimblee cackled madly, causing Mustang to slam him against the wall. "We are police officers. We protect the people, not use them as sacrifices for our own gain!"

"That's enough, Mustang! Kimblee!" A hand suddenly pushed on his chest and away from Kimblee. Looking to his side he saw Captain Fesler. "I don't need infighting right now, you hear me? Each one of you is gonna help with the relief efforts. Kimblee, your head is bleeding; get to a hospital."

"Yes, sir…" Mustang felt his hands clench as Kimblee skipped off. He knew Kimblee was involved in this, but he just couldn't figure out how.

"Mustang, Hughes, I need the two of you to get people into the ambulances and recover the bodies." The two officers quickly saluted and turned towards the now somewhat dimming flames. "Oh, and Mustang, I suggest you get yourself looked at. You're bleeding all over."

"With all due respect, sir, I think my talents are best utilized here." Fesler contemplated his decision for a moment before nodding in acceptance and heading back into the bulk of the station.

So it was that Mustang and Hughes practically spearheaded the search and rescue of survivors amidst the rubble. It certainly helped that most of the officers and detectives knew who they were and easily trusted them. It was back-breaking work, and there was little break time for water or food. When it finally got too dark to see clearly, and the firemen were put in charge, Roy and Hughes headed for the hospital, the former barely able to walk from the damage he received in the blast. The hospital they went to was in utter chaos.

"Are the Rockbells available?"

"They need more anesthesia in the burn victims ward!"

"Get a nurse over to surgery, now!"

"No, I'm afraid the Rockbells are treating some minor patients from that bombing earlier today."

"But I wanna see my mom and dad!" Roy passed the girl who said this as he went to check in, barely paying attention to his surroundings at all.

"Stop whining, Winry, we all do."

"You're so mean, Ed."

"Heh heh, come on Winry, let's play another game!" The three children ran past Hughes as Roy finished checking in, and he saw a smaller, older woman and a much younger one go chasing after them. Only a few minutes later, Roy was called in. More horrific sounds pervaded the hallways as he was walked to his room.

"Where's my daddy? It hurts…" cried a little girl in a nearby room and Roy frowned. He was extremely grateful that all the doctor had to do for him was patch his arms and tell him to get plenty of rest. Roy was more than happy to oblige.

A few days later, there was a bombing at the hospital. Ten doctors, forty civilians, and five more officers of the law had been killed in the explosion.

What happened next could only be described as an exodus of officers from the Ishval PD. The bombings had whipped the entire department into a frenzy and most of the police requested transfers out of the hellhole that was now Ishval. Unfortunately for those who remained, most of them were granted, and on top of that, Commissioner Bradley himself had put a bottleneck on officers and trainees going into Ishval. That was why, over the next few months, Roy saw Ishval PD quickly becoming a ghost station. It didn't help that the now ashen faced detectives, who were searching for the man now dubbed "The Ishvalan Bomber", were about as close to catching him as Hughes was to cheating on Gracia.

Life became very difficult for Hughes and himself, especially since there were so few officers their age. In fact, only Charlie and his partner, Kimblee, and Hawkeye had stuck around. Otherwise, it was older officers who were kept there (mostly because their transfers were denied). Of course, security had intensified at the station and Mustang was starting to feel as though soon he wouldn't even be able to wipe his nose without the entire station knowing. A few more months after the bombings, things changed once again when he and the other cops their age (excluding Kimblee) were called into Fesler's office, coming face to face with Chief Grumman of the East PD.

"I want the five of you to transfer to East," Grumman said, stroking his moustache idly. "From what Fesler tells me, the five of you are the best cops this side of middle age, and each one of you has commendations. So, what do you say?"

"Didn't many of our past colleagues transfer to East, sir?" Mustang asked brashly and Grumman took his glasses off for a moment, cleaning them deliberately.

"I suppose…but none of them had the potential." Grumman walked up and down the line, his eyes lingering on Hawkeye for a mite longer than necessary. "I've had the paperwork written up should any of you choose to accept my offer…Oh, and I should note, due to your tenacity, I'll have you all cleared to take the DET…when you're ready that is." Roy took the following silence to observe his other officers' faces. When he was confident in what he saw, he turned back toward Grumman and stood at attention.

"Sir, I think we'd all be honored to accept the transfer." Grumman nodded at him before dismissing them all. Charlie gave a low whistle once they were cleared of the office.

"Did you see Fesler's face? He didn't look too happy."

"Would you be? He's losing his best officers to East PD," Hughes commented before leaning over and fixing his eye on Riza. "Grumman seemed kind of fixated on you, Hawkeye."

"That would be because he's my grandfather." Her answer elicited a jaw drop from Hughes and a raucous laugh from Roy as the female officer stalked off towards her rounds.

"Well, looks like we've got it in with the big wigs. Better watch our backs, huh, Roy?"

"Yeah, wouldn't want to get burned on our way to the throne."

* * *

><p><em>So, that was the end of Ishval for us. A few weeks later we left Ishval and transferred to East. It made things much easier for Hughes and Gracia; that was for sure. About a month after we had transferred, he proposed to Gracia and the wedding was set for the fall.<em>

* * *

><p>"Give it up for our newlyweds, Maes and Gracia Hughes!" Roy said loudly to the banquet hall. All of the guests clapped wildly and Roy was even able to catch an elusive smile on Riza's face. Roy quickly handed the microphone back to the hired D.J., who called on the beaming couple for their first dance. The young officer took the opportunity to seat himself next to Riza. "Think this'll make Hughes shut up about Gracia all the time."<p>

"Not a chance," she responded curtly and Roy chuckled in agreement.

"Hey, wanna dance?" The look she gave him easily answered his question. "Oh, come on, we haven't danced together since your senior prom. It would be nice."

"I'd rather not head down that road, sir."

"Riza, it's just a dance."

"Roy, it's more than just a dance and you know it." His eyes softened towards her as he contemplated her answer.

"Fine, you don't have to dance with me." She nodded in satisfaction. "I noticed that you didn't take the DET with Hughes and I. Why not? You're good enough to make detective."

"I think I need to hone my skills more." Riza's answer was simple as she fiddled with her bridesmaid dress, but Roy saw the deeper meaning behind it.

"Why are you always trailing along behind me?"

"I trust you to watch your own front, sir, so I stay behind to watch your back." Roy frowned at that, but gave a simple sigh of acceptance before excusing himself from the table and joining others on the dance floor. After numerous songs with the other bridesmaids, and even one with the flower girl, Roy returned to the table only to find that Hughes was the one who had replaced Riza.

"Tough break on Hawkeye, huh?" he commented, tipping a glass of wine down his throat. "Maybe it was a mistake to make you best man and her, the Maid of Honor."

"Hughes, it would take a lot more than that to destroy what me and Riza have." The married man seemed to consider his words a moment, but came up with nothing to say. "She's just frustrating me right now."

"Women, huh? Consider yourself lucky then."

"How do you mean?" Roy asked him, his eyes now focusing on the flickering flame produced by a candle on the table. Hughes eyed him for a moment as he watched the flame, a source of both comfort and fear for him.

"I mean that you have someone you can rely on," he insisted. "Look at it this way, in a few days time, our results are coming in and more likely than not, the two of us will make detective. You keep moving up like this, you'll get lots of enemies. So why don't you just ask Hawkeye out and get yourself a wife?"

"It's not that-"

"Yeah, you're just gonna toss that silly policy on me." Hughes wagged his finger back and forth, as if scolding his own best man. "Serious Hughes here, however…Look, Roy, you deserve to be just as happy as me and Gracia. And she's the only one who can do that for you."

"I have my own goals to reach, Maes. Life's not all about love."

"Yeah, well life's not all about making commissioner, either!" Hughes had stood as he proclaimed that and Roy finally drew his attention away from the flame to stare at his best friend. "Sometimes, it's about finding people you can trust and letting them make up a part of you that you couldn't otherwise. Just think about that." And those were Hughes' final words as he went back to joining his wife, leaving Roy mulling over the truth in his words.

* * *

><p>"Congratulations, men; you two are now officially detectives," Grumman said with a bright smile on his face as he passed both of the black-haired men their new badges and their respective sidearm. "I'm glad, too. I was wondering if I would have to force you to take the DET soon."<p>

"Well, it was your guidance that helped to cement our conviction and improve our talents, sir," Mustang stated with honesty, forcing a laugh from the balding chief.

"Trying to butter up the chief, are we Mustang?" Grumman insinuated. "Oh, don't worry, there's no need. We're all one big family here at East PD…although, I'm afraid I'm going to have to end your partnership."

"Sir?" Hughes sounded concerned, and Roy felt a similar trepidation at Grumman's words.

"Oh, no, it has nothing to do with your partnership, but more to do with logistics. We're a little short-staffed on detectives at the moment, so I'm assigning the two of you to work with some more…established detectives." Grumman rustled around on his desk and pulled out two files. He quickly passed the top one to Hughes. "Detective Hughes, you'll be working with Detective Alex Louis Armstrong. He's a good man, sharp instincts; I'm sure you'll work well together.

"As for yourself, Detective Mustang, our own Head Detective Raven is currently without partner. Once he heard you were making detective, he requested you to be his partner specifically. I guess he was impressed with the way you handled crime scenes as an officer." Mustang glanced over his own file, which contained all the information he needed to know about Head Detective Raven. "Well, I can't afford to have two detectives sit in my office all day. There are cases that need to be solved. Off you go!"

After a brief exchange of looks, the two detectives left the chief's office. "Well, looks like this is it, Roy."

"I don't think so. I'm still relying on you as my partner," Roy told him, causing Hughes to give a small smirk. "So, let's meet up for drinks after work."

"Sounds like a plan, partner." The two shook each other's hands and parted ways. After only a few paces away from the chief's office, Mustang's eyes locked on to the bearded appearance of Head Detective Raven.

"Er…Head Detective Raven, sir?" he said tentatively, in hopes of gaining the older man's attention. Raven looked up from the file folders on his desk and over to Mustang. The new detective tightened his posture a little, until Raven laughed loudly.

"Ah, Mustang, finally made detective, I see!" Mustang let out a breathy laugh as Raven stood and clasped his hand in friendly greeting. "Well, I'm looking forward to seeing you in action, partner."

"Of course, sir." Raven's face dropped a little and Mustang could see all the lines on his face. There wasn't much that the young man knew about the older head detective, only the stories that Riza had relayed to him from her grandfather. To the extent of his knowledge, Raven was a good man who was very kind to all victims and their family members. The only thing that exceeded his compassion was his determination and obstinacy. Once Raven had a case, it was deadlocked to be solved eventually. Mustang figured that it had something to do with his ailing wife, but only knew as much as the rumors presented: Raven's wife had been diagnosed with a difficult to treat disease which led to the older man striving to help those he could so that he wouldn't make life harder for his wife.

"Mustang, I'm your partner now. There's no need to call me sir."

"Uh…I can try." Raven simply chortled again.

"Well, there's one thing we need to work on: your sense of humor." Mustang gave a tiny smile when Raven went to grab his coat. "Anyway, you can set your desk up later. Right now, we've got a murder on the lower docks of East City."

That was how Mustang began his partnership with Head Detective Raven. He quickly learned that Raven was the kind of man who didn't take excuses from anybody, even the uniformed officers. That had turned out to be part of the reason that Raven had requested Mustang as his partner. After all, Mustang had kept his crime scenes very controlled and orderly as an officer. Within those few hours of working with Raven on his first case, Mustang learned not only solid investigative skills, but also good interrogation techniques and ways to comfort witnesses. In addition, he learned about his new partner and came to see the gruff man as kind and jolly. There was no doubt he would work well with him. As their work day came to a close and Mustang submitted evidence to Forensics, he managed to run into Hughes for the first time that day.

"He's kind of annoying, Roy…all he does is talk about the 'investigative skills passed down the Armstrong line for generations' blah blah blah…" Roy only laughed at Hughes' obvious disquiet. There was no wonder Grumman said the two would work well together when they seemed so alike. "On a different note, though, I think he'd be a good ally."

"Ally?" Roy questioned as Hughes started packing the things on his desk.

"In the quest for commissioner," Hughes expressed plainly. "I was thinking today; if you want to make commissioner, you need to support people who will support you, if you get my drift. It's better to start sooner than later." Roy tapped his chin thoughtfully as he considered his friend's words. Hughes certainly had a point, and while the up-and coming detective was already making inroads, it couldn't hurt to add a little gas to the fire.

"I couldn't agree more," he quickly asserted as he strode away from the desk and over to the coffee machine, where two uniformed officers were arguing.

"Look, Hav, women don't like men who smoke. That's just how it is. It's about brain and brawn."

"What about Officer Hawkeye's partner, huh? Catalina doesn't seem to mind it."

"She's loose for any guy, especially if he had the prospect of lots of money."

"Way to spoil the fun, Breda."

"I'd agree with Breda, if you ask me." As soon as Mustang had made his presence known, the two men instantly snapped to attention.

"D-detective Mustang!" Breda stammered out. "Congratulations, sir, on making detective."

"Don't you two plan on going for detective soon?" Mustang asked and Havoc lost himself for a moment, bursting at the seams with laughter.

"Look, chief, you've been a great help to us lower officers…hell, you even helped me back in my academy days, but we still need quite a bit of time before we're ready to make detective." Breda nodded in agreement with his partner. Mustang gave a mock-frown and shrugged his shoulders.

"There's no need to call me chief, Havoc…yet," Mustang mused, and both of the officers looked at him in apparent astonishment. "Although, if I'm going to be chief, I need some good people under me, right? So, if the two of you have any problems, just come and see me. I look forward to seeing you become detectives!" He left them and went back over to Hughes, who was already prepared to go.

"That was a gamble."

"You can't make it big if you don't take risks."

"True…" Hughes muttered, stroking his beard. "You think they'll come through."

"Heh…I _know_ they'll come through."

* * *

><p>"Stop pacing, Hughes, you'll wear a hole in the floor!"<p>

"But I can't stop worrying, Roy. What id Gracia doesn't make it out okay? !" Hughes yelled exasperatedly, causing Roy to grab him by his overcoat and drag him down to a chair.

"Your wife is in childbirth, not surgery."

"And what if my baby girl isn't okay?"

"Hughes, shut up." Hughes only glared at him and muttered something along the lines of "baby-killer", after which it took all of Roy's willpower not to strangle him. "Just focus on something else, like a case."

"But I already cleared all my cases…" Roy snorted in annoyance with Hughes' over-efficiency. Three years they had been detectives and not a day went by that Hughes didn't show how good he was at investigative work. "Oh, right…I forgot you've been working cases by yourself now."

"Tch, ever since Raven's wife worsened, he's had to take a leave. According to him, they may have to move his wife to a hospital in Central, and he may go with her." Roy ran his fingers through his hair multiple times. "Grumman's been quite kind, though, teaming me up with Havoc and Breda."

"And how's the new kid working out?"

"Feury…he's a good kid, and his partner Falman's not too bad either. I've got them running a lead for me right now." Hughes hummed thoughtfully. "I can see why Grumman thinks Feury would be good detective material. The kid's a technical wizard and he's got a good head on his shoulders. He's just a little…unpolished."

"Hmm…so it seems like a promotion may be in the future, huh?" Roy looked over to the impending father and smirked, but made no statement on the situation. It was true that Raven had all but abdicated his duties as the head detective of East PD, and his transfer to Central was impending. That being said, the position for head detective was opening up, and despite Roy's young age, he could only hope he would make the cut.

"Mister Hughes…" said a young female voice, and Hughes bolted out of his chair. Roy stood more slowly and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Congratulations, your wife and baby are in good health. You have a lovely daughter." Hughes breathed out in elation, little tears forming in the corners of his eyes as the nurse walked away.

"Congrats, Hughes. You're a father."

"Yeah…I'm a father…I'm a father!" Hughes quickly straightened up before tearing off down the hallway. "Hold on, honey, Daddy's coming! Come on in and see your goddaughter, Roy!" Roy only sighed.

"And I thought he was annoying as a newlywed."

* * *

><p>Fifty-eight…fifty-nine…Five minutes since Roy had been called into the chief's office and not once had Grumman looked up from his stack of paper. A small lump was forming in his throat from the anticipation, but he easily managed to keep his face entirely impassive.<p>

"Quite the case here, Roy…I didn't think it'd turn out this way when I sent you to Heissgart," Grumman finally said, taking the pile of papers and shoving them into a file folder. "Everyone was guilty…"

"Almost everyone, at least. Once Hughes pointed out that everyone in the house had an airtight alibi, I realized they were all covering for one another. Only the people who were with me or Hughes could have been considered innocent."

"So we're rid of murdering conspirators and crime boss Rupert Genz in one fell swoop; hard work for someone without a partner."

"I did have Hughes, sir."

"I'm not talking about this one case. I'm talking about the last nine months since Raven took his leave." Mustang scratched his head, drinking in the praise that Grumman was giving him. "His transfer order recently went through, actually, and I'm out a Head Detective. So, what do you say, Roy? I've spoken with Hughes, and he agrees-"

"You spoke with Hughes? About what?"

"Your promotion, of course. Most of my other detectives agree that you'd be the best choice," Grumman explained delightedly. "I know you're quite young, but I can easily see you as a very competent Head Detective. Will you take it?"

"I'd be honored, sir."

"Splendid. As of today, you're officially Head Detective Mustang. As for your new partner…" Grumman stood up and walked around his desk. "Riza, my office, please." Roy stood quickly, an act which did not go unnoticed by the chief, as Riza Hawkeye stepped in the room. "Roy, Riza, you two are now partners. I trust you'll make me proud."

"Of course, sir." They had both answered simultaneously before taking their leave of the office. "So…partners, sir…"

"It would seem so," Roy observed, glancing at the female detective. He should have realized his new partner would be her, considering that her previous partner had just been transferred to West. "Can you excuse me a moment, Hawkeye? I need to speak to Hughes." She gave him an affirmation as he split off and approached Hughes at his desk.

"Hey, Roy! Congratulations on the promotion!" Hughes called out jubilantly, but Roy merely slammed on his desk, causing Hughes to whip around, the lingering scent of apple pie traveling with him.

"You knew!" he seethed. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"I didn't think I needed to," Hughes answered in a hushed, but serious, tone. "You wanna be chief one day, right? It was only inevitable that you'd get the head detective gig."

"So you made it happen." Roy took a step back and Hughes smirked at him.

"Grumman asked my opinion and I took the chance. I thought 'Why don't I push you to the top?'" Hughes' eyes gleamed as he leaned forward. Roy opened his mouth to respond but the other detective quickly cut him off. "I know, I know; you already got someone watching your back, but sometimes you need a push forward, right? And now you've got it."

"So I do…thanks, Hughes." Roy was genuine in his gratitude and Hughes shrugged, as if it were nothing. "I guess I should make my own team now, huh?"

"Guess so…that's your thing. I'm not involved in that."

"Hey!"

"Oh, relax Roy-I've always got you back."

* * *

><p><em>That was our unspoken agreement, and for the next five years, we shaped the department. I made my team that included Hughes, Armstrong, Havoc, and Breda, all while keeping an eye on our star Officer Feury and his partner Falman. Our case closure rate shot through the roof, and it seemed like we could solve every case.<em>

_Then came the case that changed everything._

* * *

><p>"Roy! I know you're in there, Roy! Damn it!" Hughes' voice sounded so far off, muddled by the alcohol imprisoning his brain. There was a soft clicking noise at the door and a second later, Hughes burst through the entrance way and stood in his apartment, a plastic bag hanging from his arm.<p>

"What are you doing here, Hughes?" Roy asked, draining his glass of whiskey in a single shot. As Hughes closed the door, Roy poured himself another glass. "Aside from breaking into my apartment, that is."

"You weren't picking up your phone," he answered coldly, noticing Roy's disheveled state for the first time. "You look like crap, Roy."

"I feel like crap…" Of course, Roy knew the whiskey wasn't helping, but at this point it was preferable to reality. Reality…the truth hit him like stone blocks and the head detective slammed his glass on the counter, causing some of the drink to spill over. "I had him, Maes…I had him."

"Even the best cops can't stop this kind of stuff when the district attorney gets involved," Hughes reminded him softly, placing the bag he brought in on the counter.

"The district attorney should've never gotten involved! Shou Tucker was a bastard who deserved the death penalty, or at least life in prison." Another drink went down his gullet, causing Hughes to frown at him. "Human experimentation, illegal drug production, sex trafficking…I found the evidence that would have convicted him in any court. Then the DA comes in and he gets a deal. A fucking deal!"

"I think you've had enough to drink tonight," Roy pushed his hand away as he went to pour yet another glass.

"I worked so hard making an iron-clad case, and now he's gonna walk like he was innocent all along."

"So instead of finding something to land him on, you're just going to sit here and drink?"

"Pretty much…Tucker's walking because the powers-that-be demanded it. Nothing I can do about it." Roy reached for his glass, but instead found Hughes' hand sweeping across the counter, knocking both his glass and the bottle of whiskey to the floor with a crash. "I was gonna finish that…"

"This isn't you, Roy. The Roy Mustang I know doesn't give up because he can't get his way. You didn't make it this far by giving up when it looked like a criminal might go free. No, you buckled down and found something that would stick, even if just for a few years. I mean, are you really just going to sit there and drink your life away 'cause of one mistake? Don't be rash, Roy."

"You're really not going to let me off the hook, are you?" Roy asked after a pause, his mind sobering up a little.

"Partners always have each other's backs, and that includes breaking the bottle when you've had enough."

"Sorry…guess I wasn't thinking straight."

"Damn right, you weren't. Now, you just leave the rest to me." Hughes stretched a little as he turned towards the exit from the apartment. "Trust your partner Roy, remember?"

"You never let me forget."

"Oh, which reminds me, I almost forgot." Roy rubbed his head, feeling a headache coming on as Hughes dug into his bag. "Hey Mustang, take this. It might help whenever you get agitated."

Roy caught the small object and looked it over. It was a lighter, though the design on the front was a flame. "It's a lighter…I don't smoke, Hughes."

"I know, but don't think I haven't noticed the way looking at flames calms you down. I didn't make detective on my good looks." And after clicking the lighter on and staring into the flame for a moment, he couldn't agree with Hughes' statement more.

"Thanks, Maes."

"No problem. Now, I should go find some iron-clad dirt on Tucker, 'cause you're in no fit state to investigate. Aw, man…another night of not seeing my darling Elicia." Hughes started off towards the door, scratching the back of his head the whole while. "Get some rest, Roy, and make sure you eat some of that apple pie Gracia made for you. It's heavenly!"

Moments later he had left the apartment, Roy still staring into the flame.

* * *

><p>Two weeks passed since Hughes had given Roy a sharp slap to reality, and things seemed to be picking up. Cases were being cleared again, criminals were being put behind bars and Hughes was still babbling on to the entire station about his wife and daughter.<p>

"Hey, you hear about that kid who's making a stir over at South?" Havoc asked. "Apparently, it's gotten the attention of a lot of people over at Central."

"And yet, our rising star still isn't man enough to take the DET," Breda laughed out and Feury hung his head in shame.

"Sorry guys…my grandmother just died, my parents are moving, and my sister's getting married…I just don't have the time…" Feury answered sheepishly, but Mustang clapped him on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Don't worry about it. We know things have been hard since Falman got transferred to North," he encouraged the young boy. "By the way, where's Hughes?"

"He's working a lead on the Tucker case," Armstrong informed him and Mustang's brow furrowed.

"I thought the Tucker case was closed a while back."

"The Tucker murder case, sir. Chief Grumman assigned it to Armstrong and Hughes," Hawkeye told him, and Mustang's gaze narrowed. Tucker had been murdered? A loud groan next to him took him out of his reflection.

"Aw man…I was hoping he'd bring by one of those pies tonight!" Havoc complained and Mustang laughed jubilantly.

"I guess we'll have to tell him to stop by." Mustang continued to smile as his phone rang in his pocket. "Head Detective Roy Mustang…Hello?"

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_Click_

Roy continued to stare at his cell phone strangely, garnering the attention of the other detectives and officer. Recovering from his stupor, Mustang quickly looked up the number from which the call had come. Not recognizing it, he immediately turned towards Feury. "Hey, run a trace on this number."

"Sure thing." Mustang sat on the edge of his seat as Feury went to work at a computer. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that was pooling in his stomach. Those were gunshots he had heard before the line went dead. But who had called him? "It's a pay phone on First and Elton."

"Hughes was investigating a lead on Elton Street," Armstrong said, and a chill ran down the head detective's spine. Now he knew who had called him: it was Hughes.

"Hawkeye, let's go!" She didn't need to be told again as the two flew from the station.

But by the time they got there, to the phone booth on the corner of First and Elton, Hughes was already dead, shot three times and slumped against the interior of the telephone booth. In his hands were his cell phone and a picture of his wife and child, both stained with blood.

* * *

><p>"Blessed Father, as this soul returns to the earth…" The wind whistled through the cemetery as Roy stood at rapt attention. He was blocking the words that were being spoken over Hughes' burial. He felt numb. Shots were fired in deference to the fallen detective.<p>

His cell had been right there…but he didn't use it. What did that mean? That phone had been given to him by the department; did he not trust it? Roy's fists clenched, tightening around the lighter in his pocket. He didn't understand it. What had Hughes done to deserve to die? There was a small tug on Roy's coat.

"Uncle Roy…please don't let them take daddy away! You can bring him back, right?"

"Elicia…come on…"

"Daddy said you and him are partners, and that you have each other's backs. So you won't let them take him away, right? Please, Uncle Roy! Uncle Roy!" Roy had no response for the grieving girl, and it was not until her young voice crying for her father had faded, that he released the breath he didn't realize he had been holding. And it was still later, after everybody else had left, that Roy and Riza remained standing before the grave.

"You know," he started after a long silence," I keep thinking about what I could've done to save him. Maybe if I had done anything differently…"

"You couldn't have changed it," Riza responded softly. "And it does no good thinking about things like that…We should get going, sir."

"I'm sorry, Riza, but I'd like to stay in the rain a little longer," Roy told her, tears stinging his eyes as they threatened to fall down.

"But, it's not-"

"Yes…it is…it's been raining since that night." Riza seemed to understand the implication and excused herself as the tears finally spilled down his face. "You promised me you'd always have my back…but you had to go and die on me," Roy whispered, his voice clashing for dominance with the breeze. "Who else is gonna push me to the top?"

_I think this country needs more idealists like you._

_If you're shooting for the top, I'd put myself behind you._

_Sometimes, it's about finding people you can trust and letting them make up a part of you that you couldn't otherwise._

_I've always got your back._

_Trust your partner, Roy._

"You asked me to trust you, Maes, and I did." His fists clenched again, this time in determination. "Now I'm asking you to trust me. I will catch your killer, and I will destroy him…even if it destroys me too."

* * *

><p><em>That was two years ago…and to this day, I still haven't fulfilled that promise.<em>

_But when I do, _that_ is when this story will finally have an ending…the _right_ ending._

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry for the wait, but this was a whopper of a chapter. As it stands, this concludes the first half of the story. As of next chapter we are kicking into overdrive with this story and its plot. We're done looking at the past and will now step forward to its future. So give me a bright future and leave me lots of reviews. By the way, there are hints as to the continuance of the plot in this chapter. Also, I'm still looking for people to draw image covers for this story as I've gotten zero submissions thus far. So, please remember to review and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	12. Chapter 12

**We now begin the second half of this story. Here the plot really flies off in ways it has not before. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 12<span>

_Tick…Tick…Tick…_

Ed moved his hand in concert with the staccato beat of the clock, his wedding band clacking against the wooden counter. Roy's drink was left abandoned, its condensation pooling around the glass' base. As Roy heaved in a breath, Ed's eyes flitted over to the clock, noting the obscenely late hour that they were still here.

"That was two years ago…and to this day, I still haven't fulfilled that promise," Roy told him, turning away from the counter with his hands folded on his lap. His gaze suddenly became intense and Ed stopped his moving hand. "But when I do, _that_ is when this story will finally have an ending…the _right_ ending."

Ed said nothing. What could he say? Roy had essentially just poured his entire past onto the young man. Nevertheless, Ed focused his mind inward, sifting through the wide breadth of information he had just received. Ironically, only one inane question tumbled from his mouth.

"So, that's why you don't drink?" Roy's eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Really? I tell you all that, and that's the only question you have?"

"What? ! It was a lot of information!" Ed defended himself, and Roy pursed his lips but seemed to make up his mind to answer the question anyway.

"Yeah, that's the reason. I only drink on the anniversary of his death to remind myself he's not here to stop me…" Ed made a small humming noise and turned towards his thoughts again.

Maes Hughes…the goal of commissioner…Kimblee…Ishval…Head Detective Raven…Gracia and Elicia…Shou Tucker…the unused cell phone…a promise. Tucker, Shou Tucker…Tucker…

"Did Shou Tucker have a daughter?" Ed knew his question was sudden, and his brief glance to Roy's face told him that it was such an extraneous question that the detail wasn't readily available.

"I think…maybe a name might've come up into our investigation. If he did, she was long dead, so she wouldn't have exactly been privy to our investigation." Roy quit the stroking of his non-existent beard and looked at Ed, the corners of his lips turning down. "Why do you ask?"

"I knew a little girl once, about five years younger, named Nina Tucker. She was a patient in the hospital where the Rockbells worked. My brother, Al, and I would often visit her and play games whenever we came by to see Winry's parents."

"I'm guessing she died in the bombings as well?"

"Yeah…but the weird part was, she shouldn't have even been there. By all rights, she was healed and given a clean bill of health, but not a single one of her parents ever stopped by to pick her up. Al and I were devastated, and it was only compounded by the death of the Rockbells and soon after, our mother's."

"Huh…" Roy breathed, and the both of them sat silent for a moment. "Do you think the two cases have something to do with one another?"

"Hell if I know. I was just a kid when it happened!" Ed protested, resting his chin on his palm defiantly. "I went into Forensics because it put me closest to the situation while still utilizing my specific expertise. After that, I spent the next two or three years just chasing after Scar's shadow. I, obviously, never caught up to it."

"Tucker and Scar…can't say I knew either well." A scraping of the barstool was heard and Ed noticed the older man walking around the counter. "What I can say about Tucker is that he was sick and twisted. As harsh as it sounds, it may have been a blessing for that little girl to have died in that explosion. Quick and painless. Hughes…didn't quite have that luxury. It was almost like his killer took great pride and satisfaction in their work and wanted to derive the maximum pain from him."

"I thought they sounded sadistic the moment you told me they hung up the phone," Ed commented. "They had to have gotten close to the body." Another beat of the clock. "So, Hughes was working the Tucker case?"

"So far as I understood it, two weeks after Tucker cut a deal with the district attorney's office, he was found murdered in his own home, a shot to the head."

"He knew his killer."

"Likely," Roy responded with a nod of his own head as he cleared his glass off the counter and dumped its contents down the drain. "Grumman put Armstrong and Hughes on the case, so I didn't even know about it. After Hughes died, I naturally asked Armstrong for everything they had found."

"Then what was the lead he was following?" Roy frowned and Ed leaned inward, his body slightly slipping from the barstool.

"A witness. I think they checked the phone records and found he had called a Charlene McDougal about five times in those last few weeks. I went to go speak to her myself, but she was dead by the time I went to speak to her; hanged herself."

"She killed Tucker?"

"Who could ever say? There was a note indicating that she'd done as much, and we found the weapon in her house…but she didn't have any close friends to verify the handwriting. We ended up having to rule it a suicide." A slow tapping of the foot emanated from behind the counter, still in beat with the ever-ticking timepiece. "Looking back on it now, that may have been Homunculus Corp as well. Hired as official private investigators when the case went south, but really sent in to clean up the work."

"They didn't seem to do so very neatly," Ed scoffed. "I'm just surprised you didn't look into all of this stuff sooner."

"I told you before that I couldn't. Everything I tried to look into turned into an enormous stone wall, and then, a few months down the line, Central came in and took over the entire case. After that, I couldn't catch another whiff or sight of the case."

"Hmm, I must've been able to because my pass code was still coded that I was at Central, so I could access that info…but it still registered that I was looking through the East database," Ed mused, his eyes narrowing towards the row of bottles sitting behind the head detective. Too many thoughts were in his head about this whole case, and while the story about Ishval helped to clarify _some_ things, on most other things he was still woefully ignorant. Questions would be answered only to come up with more questions, and the truth of the matter was still eluding them both. "Damn it! Why does this have to be so complicated?"

Roy laughed at his reaction before the lines of laughter shifted off his face and back into a frown. Ed turned, once again, to look at him as the older man sighed. "Look at us…we're a bunch of fools."

"I don't quite get your meaning."

Roy breathed in before stating outright, "Why are we really here? We're just two fools who can't seem to let go of the past. We're both trying to catch people who killed someone that matters to us, and it's just a hopeless chase."

"Don't say that!" Ed snapped, feeling himself fully sliding off the stool now to stand stock still in front of the head detective, his fists clenched. "I'm not giving up! Not until I catch Scar!"

"Why are you trying so hard to catch him, Ed? So he killed your wife's parents…is that any reason to throw your own life away?" Ed slammed his hands down on the bar counter angrily. He wasn't about to be belittled into giving up by this man. _Especially_ not this man.

"And who are you to talk about throwing your life away? !" Ed screamed. He didn't care how loud he was being, or how Mustang's eyes flinched for just the briefest moment. "I'm chasing after Scar because I was given a life to do so by the very person he hurt the most: Winry. I'm not doing it to throw my life away! I'm doing it because I want to! I didn't make stupid promises to people who couldn't hear them."

"Watch it!" Roy barked, but Ed didn't back down. He simply stared into Roy's eyes, his own fire creating a reflection within the man's black pupils. After a heated pause, Roy shook his head with a scoff. "Fine, then we're just hopeless."

"That doesn't sound any better than calling us fools."

"We are though. Ed, we're both chasing after cases that have been cold for years. Do you know what the chances are of solving a case after the forty-eight hour window? I'll tell you, it's less than one percent."

"Then screw the odds!" Roy finally snapped up when Ed yelled those words, and the forensics specialist knew that he had grabbed him. "So what if it's only one percent or .01 percent, let's be a part of it then. If there's an enormous stone wall, we break through it. Let's beat the odds! We'll catch Hughes' killer and Scar, and there is nothing stopping us. I've given up on only one thing in life, and after that I made a promise to never give up again!"

"You're one stubborn brat, you know that?" Roy told him with a smirk, causing Ed to slam his hands on the counter once again.

"Well, at least I'm not giving up!" Ed knew he must have looked and sounded manic, but by this point he was beyond caring. His fists tightened as he cast his sight downward, watching his limbs shaking. "Look, I don't care if you want to give up now, but I'll be damned if I let her cry again."

"Who said anything about giving up?" Roy questioned him sternly and Ed's head snapped up to see the burgeoning fire behind the head detective's eyes. A small chuckle rose to Ed's mouth, and then it was like a cavalcade of laughter erupting from him as he tossed his head back.

"So that's what it is, huh?" Ed stopped laughing and slammed his fist on the counter again, this time out of determination instead of anger. "Maybe I was wrong. You don't need me to solve your case. We need one another to solve the cases that aren't ours."

"And you're sure about that?" Roy's eyebrow was raised and Ed responded to his skeptic question with his own smirk.

"Hell yeah, I am. I don't know why the two of us were thrown together on the Chopper case, 'cause it sure wasn't fate. But there was some reason the two of us came to know each other, and maybe this was it." Ed relaxed his posture before speaking again. "What was it your friend Hughes said? 'Trust your partner'? Well, I'm your partner now, whether you like it or not, so it's high time we trusted one another." Roy seemed to consider his words for a moment before stretching his hand forward.

"All right then, partner." After another quick smirk, Ed took his hand and the two shook on it. "Well then, I guess we should get you back to the hotel, huh? I'm sure your wife is worried about you."

"I wasn't exactly planning on listening to that boring story of yours 'til who-knows-what time," Ed said to him jocularly. Roy punched him lightly on the shoulder, making Ed glare at him as the two of them exited the bar, the older man locking up.

"Just because we're partners does not mean you can insult me." Ed just waved his hand nonchalantly as the two began walking back to their hotel. As expected, the streets were practically empty, save for a few people stumbling home from the bars they had likely been stationed at all evening. It didn't take long for them to reach Hotel Amestria and enter the somewhat ritzy lobby. "You know, Fullmetal, I'm not asking you to get involved in all this, so I have to wonder why you care so much."

Ed turned around and cheekily replied, "Let's put it this way, Mustang: if I help you catch Hughes' killer, you'll help me catch Scar. If I help you become chief, you'll owe me a favor. If I help you become commissioner, you'll owe me another favor. After that, I'll just think of other things I can help you with. I like having friends in high places."

"In other words, you're not letting me off the hook for a very long time." Ed didn't say anything as he began to walk towards the ascending steps. "Hey, Fullmetal! You going to answer me?"

"I'm not letting you off the hook for the rest of your life! Someone's gotta keep you on the straight and narrow, and Detective Hawkeye can't do _everything_ on her own." Roy made a small sound that expressed annoyance, but Ed kept walking.

"Anybody tell you you're an insufferable brat?"

"Yeah? Well you're an arrogant asshole!"

"Whatever, short stuff."

"I'm not tiny, you belligerent bastard!" Roy could only laugh before bidding the incensed man good night. Ed considered flicking him off as he walked away, but decided against it as he walked up the stairs. Finally feeling that he could relax, Ed loosened his tie and took off his jacket before finding his room and granting himself access.

"Where have _you_ been, brother?"

"Holy crap, Al!" Ed yelped with a slightly startled jump. Al was sitting in a chair just a few feet away, the dim lighting in the room barely outlining his body. "Way to act like a serial killer."

Al didn't laugh, and Ed hung his jacket up in silence. A brief look into the further interior of the hotel room revealed that Winry was asleep on one of the beds; Mei was on the other. Meanwhile, the couch seemed to have been set up as a makeshift bed, likely for Al. "She just went to sleep half an hour ago, after she was too tired from waiting for you."

"I'll apologize to her in the morning," Ed told him, attempting to dismiss the subject. Al sighed behind him and Ed knew his younger brother was not going to let the issue go that easily. "It wasn't like I expected to be kidnapped by Detective Dumbass."

"Is that where you were then?" Al sounded miffed, and Ed collapsed in the chair opposite him with a groan.

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" His tone was defensive in preparation for Al's verbal lashing. Al leaned forward in his chair, the pale light in the room finally revealing his brother's face. Al's face was set in a frown and his usually soft eyes were hardened into a glare.

"You tell me. You disappeared as soon as we got to the hotel; Winry was worried something had happened to you!" Al snapped at him and Ed's lips titled down in frustration.

"Listen, Al-"

"No, brother," Al hissed, his voice carrying over in a harsh whisper, "you listen! This is your family we're talking about here. Winry's not just your childhood friend anymore; you can't treat her with disrespect."

"Don't lecture me, Al." His voice was filled with warning now, but Al didn't seem to get the message as he continued in his berating of his older brother.

"She's your wife, Ed! Didn't you even consider that she'd be worried when you vanished? I mean, Mei was already beyond upset over what happened, and then Winry was getting upset! Is it that hard to think about things once in a while?"

"Al…I'm going to say this in the most polite way possible: shut up!" Al did. Ed wasn't sure if it was the words he had said, the tone in which he said them, or the harsh glare he was giving his brother that had done it, but he was grateful either way. "If you think I haven't been thinking about Winry tonight, then your head is too far up your ass."

"Now, what's _that_ mean?" he asked in response, his face flushed with embarrassment. Ed groaned as he sat back again, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt.

"I found him, Al…" His brother's face was nothing but confusion, and Ed decided to elaborate. "The guy who killed Winry's parents. After years of next to no leads, I found him again."

"You mean…you've been looking all this time?" Al's voice was horrified as Ed nodded. "He was there tonight?"

To this, Ed only shrugged his shoulders before replying, "I think so. The description over the radio matched his from the reports. I couldn't get any closer to the case to verify whether it was really him."

"Do you think he was the one that killed Claudio?" Al voiced, his volume dropping once again to a whisper.

"I'm not so sure about that. Scar was all about blowing things up; leaving no evidence behind to be traced. This would be an _extremely_ isolated incident. It was way too clean." Ed and Al both sighed out at the same time, as Ed slammed his hand on the chair. "Damn it! I was so close."

"Can't you still investigate?" Ed shook his head and Al just chuckled under his breath. "That's not like you."

"I can't help it. Central took the case from me."

"So? You were never one to really follow the rules, anyway," Al told him and Ed looked at his brother in shock. Was Al actually _encouraging_ him to break the rules? "This is the Rockbell's killer, right? There are no lengths you wouldn't go to in order to catch him. It's what you've been searching for all these years."

Ed had to concede that his brother did have a point. "You're right. I can't just stop my investigation. I might be off the case, but I still have a job to do, and that's making sure that Winry doesn't cry again." His voice lowered as he placed his hands on his lap. "I know she won't say it, but she'll always miss them. It's the whole reason I went into Forensics anyway. I just…want to give her some closure."

"I'll help." Al had said it so casually that it forced him to do a double take. Surely his brother had not just offered to throw himself into the line of fire.

"No way! Too dangerous!"

"So what? Can't be more dangerous than what Teacher put us through all those summers." Ed only paled at the thought, and the slight shuddering of Al's body indicated that he was thinking the same exact thing. "Ed, I know you're super stubborn. Especially so, when you consider that it took Winry getting mad, me actually yelling, and Teacher beating you senseless for you to finally admit your feelings to Winry. But you don't have to do everything alone. I was there the day mom died, and I was there the day Winry got the news. So, let me help you."

"Fine!" Ed relented and Al did a small fist pump. "None of the dangerous stuff, though. You can look at files and draw conclusions, but I don't want to see you at crime scenes or the station."

"Good deal!" Al exclaimed triumphantly. "Hey, maybe we can get Teacher to help us?"

"Sure, if you don't mind getting killed!" Ed answered with a grin, though the thought of seeing Izumi again only a few days after he had last seen her was terrifying, to say the least. "Let's just…try to keep it between us for now, okay?"

"All right," Al agreed and Ed breathed out in elation. He wouldn't admit it, but he was grateful that his brother wanted to help him so much. It reduced the burdens he felt he was carrying. That sole thought gave a speck of brightness to his dark wonderings; he would catch Scar, and then he could finally tell Winry that he had been searching all this time. "Ed, sorry about yelling at you earlier."

"Nah, it's fine. Sometimes I need my brother to yell at me and remind me of the important things." Ed stood up and stretched. "Like right now, the important thing is going to bed with my hot, beautiful, and sexy wife."

"You're so shallow, brother," Al chuckled out, but Ed brushed the matter aside, stripping himself of his dress shirt. Ed quickly slid onto the bed next to Winry and put his arm around her. For a moment he thought she had mumbled something that sounded like "you're an idiot, Ed," but he didn't care as his eyes closed and he held her tighter.

* * *

><p>"We're just fine, Hohenheim!" Ed yelled into the phone as he paced around the kitchen.<p>

"I'm glad to hear that, Edward, but do you need to yell at me when you say it?" Ed's veins twitched as he heard his father's voice on the other end. He hated how the man was so calm whenever he spoke.

"Yes, I do. I never gave you permission to call this number."

"Now, you're just being ridiculous," Hohenheim stated plainly and Ed became even more incensed at the revelation of that truth. "I just wanted to know you were okay after last night. It wasn't like I spoke to you or your brother after the shot was fired."

"Well, we are! You happy?" Ed wasn't exactly willing to carry on a conversation with the man.

"I'd be happier if you were consistent. You're angry when I'm not around; you're angry when I decide to call and see if you're okay." Ed scowled as his father kept speaking, clearly not liking where the conversation was going.

"What was that? Can't hear you! There must be some interference in the area! You're breaking up, Hohenheim." And Ed ended the call, grinning to himself despite how childish his actions seemed.

"Was that dad?" Ed jumped slightly as he placed the phone back into its cradle. Al grabbed a popsicle from the freezer as he looked over at his brother for a response.

"Yeah, it was the bastard. I told him we were all back home safely." Al grunted as the two left the kitchen, Ed's scowl still present.

"You could stand to be nicer to him."

"I will, when he stops being a bastard." Al just shrugged at him. The two entered the living room and quickly threw themselves on the couch. Winry and Mei were on the floor, numerous pieces of paper strewn across the coffee table next to them. Ed snatched up the remote and quickly clicked the television on.

"Oh, news on the treaty. Turn it up, brother." Ed did as his younger brother asked him and the news reporter's words filled the room.

"In the wake of last night's assassination, the question has been raised about what will happen to the Xing-Aerugo Treaty," the reporter announced. "President Dante has held the position that if the two countries are willing to still reconcile, she will be more than willing to keep Amestris as a mediator. Earlier this morning, we also spoke with President Ling Yao of Xing, to confirm his stance after last night's events."

"Xing is still a nation striving for peace," Ling proclaimed, his face appearing on the screen. "We offer our most sincere condolences to all Aerugonians at the loss of their prince and can only pray that their royal family will continue to show the same zeal for peace that Prince Claudio did in his lifetime." Ling's face was quickly replaced with the reporter's once again.

"It would appear President Yao's wish may be fulfilled, as we were informed this morning that Princess Elena of Aerugo intends to conclude the negotiations for peace. The formal treaty signing will take place ten days from now, next Thursday." Ed frowned. Announcing the time of the treaty signing would only encourage the shooter to come back for round two. "When it comes to the whereabouts of the shooter, the Central police are continuing their investigation, but the assassin remains at large." Ed quickly shut the TV off.

Winry kept staring at the screen a moment longer, before turning to Mei excitedly. "So, I was thinking we should use soft colors, since I think it would complement the both of you well."

Ed suppressed a groan. This was the reason he had taken the call from that bastard father of his. "I agree. Thanks so much for helping with this. I would ask Lan Fan but she's busy with presidential things and is hardly the type to plan a wedding."

"Well, I do have experience, after all." Ed chuckled under his breath as Al elbowed him with a grin. "But thank you for asking me to be a bridesmaid. Are you sure holding the wedding in Amestris is what you want?"

"Of course it is!" Al told her brightly. "After all, Winry, Ed's my best man and we don't want to have to fly you all the way into Xing."

"Funny," Ed commented, "I don't remember ever being asked to be your best man." Al turned to him with a mixture of shock and horror on his face that Ed could only laugh at. "Oh, you know I'll do it! When will the wedding be anyway?"

"We were thinking in about eight months," Mei chirped out. "I'll be done with my Master's and Al will have defended his dissertation."

"And Jerso and Zampano will be free. I asked them to be my other groomsmen this morning." Ed nodded in understanding of the situation, though he had never met Jerso or Zampano, and sat back on the couch. His gaze fell upon his wife to see her knotting her skirt in her hands.

"Eight months? That's late winter, right? Are you sure you don't want a spring wedding?" Winry squeaked out, and Ed frowned at his wife's strange behavior.

"Coming from you, Winry?" he asked, and she swiveled her head to glare at him. "We married only five months after I proposed to you. This is what they want, so let them have it." The phone in the kitchen suddenly started to ring again, and this time Ed groaned loudly. "It's probably Hohenheim; just let it ring."

"No, I'll get it. That way your dad will feel like at least someone likes him in this family," Winry scolded him as she stood and ran to the kitchen. Ed closed his eyes in an attempt to rest when suddenly, not even a minute later, he felt the phone hit him in the chest with full force. "Any reason why a woman named Martel is calling our house asking for you, Ed?"

"Martel? Ed, you're not-" Al began, but Ed cut him off as he stood.

"Don't worry about it, Al! No, Winry, I'm not cheating on you; she's just a…colleague," Ed attempted to explain, but Winry folded her arms with a huff.

"Says the guy who disappeared last night," she countered and Ed grimaced.

"I _told_ you, I was with Mustang. Back me up here, Al."

"Oh, I'm not getting involved with this."

"Traitor," Ed spat at him, but Al shrugged with a smile as Ed stalked off to the kitchen. "Why the hell are you calling my home phone? !"

"Safer," responded the cool, female voice on the other end of the line. "Greed wants to meet. Are you free?"

"I have off work today, so yeah."

"Good. Youswell, Halling's Café and Inn. Five o'clock. Don't be late." There was an audible click as she ended the call, and Ed frowned liberally. He wasn't expecting Greed to get back to him within the week, but he knew that now it couldn't be helped. Ed put the phone back as he glanced at the clock in the kitchen which displayed that it was currently three o'clock. Ed sighed and went to pop his head into the living room.

"I'm going out to meet with a friend. Don't bother with dinner for me," he announced and all the heads in the room turned to look at him.

"Not cheating, huh?" Winry said with a smirk and a sparkle in her eye.

"Love you too, Winry." With that, he was gone. As he got into his car, he debated about calling Mustang, but very quickly decided against it. For one thing, he still wasn't even sure if the information that he would receive would be of any use. Of course, the largest deterrent was that they hadn't asked him to bring the surly detective along. Having him show up at the meeting would therefore _not_ be a good thing.

Ed pondered all this until, roughly an hour and forty-five minutes later, he arrived in the town of Youswell. Knowing the layout of the town somewhat, Ed headed straight for the largest building in the town, known as Halling's Café and Inn. Sure enough, he saw a table set for two, the person sitting at the table having a newspaper propped up. The biggest giveaway, though, was the beefy Roa standing behind him. Ed quickly stomped over and sat in the chair opposite.

"I hope you don't mind, I ordered orange tea," Greed said, his voice as level as always. A second later, he lowered the newspaper. "You're alone, right? Weren't followed?"

"I see no reason why I would be," Ed answered him and Greed nodded, removing his sunglasses.

"Can't be too careful, especially given what happened last night. Did you hear?"

"I was there. And why should last night have to do with anything?" Greed flashed him a toothy grin before extending his hand out. Roa stretched forward and placed a file in the man's outstretched palm.

"It was Homunculus, obviously. Or at least, that's my educated hunch. I could be wrong," Greed explained before placing the file on the table. "You hit the nail on the head, Edward. When you uncovered that Homunculus had something to do with this Hughes' death, you dug into something that hadn't been unearthed in years."

"I'm guessing it's all in that file?" Greed slid the file across the table and Ed caught it, quickly opening it to a picture of a man he didn't recognize. His informant leaned forward in his chair and laced his fingers together.

"The work it took to find this stuff was almost not worth it. But this investigation hit pay dirt, so it's no wonder that someone tried to cover it up." Ed flicked through to the next page and yet another unrecognizable photo. His confused look must have been seen by Greed, who cleared his throat before speaking again. "It's all part of little tale that begins with a man named Shou Tucker."

"Tucker? !" Now, Greed held his full attention.

"Shou Tucker was the best scientist that Homunculus Corporation ever employed. I would know; I worked with the man myself." Greed was now absentmindedly fiddling with his sunglasses. "Some time after I left, the man made a mistake and was forced to cut ties with the organization except for one itsy bitsy link called Charlene McDougal."

"That's the witness Hughes went to visit the night he was killed!"

"But why would he be killed after visiting a woman with miniscule ties to the organization? The answer is simple: she was the beginning of a trail of bread crumbs. Now here's where the story gets twisty. Charlene McDougal was only a contact with Shou Tucker for one reason, which is money. McDougal was being paid off to keep silence about both the death and prior existence of her brother, one Isaac McDougal, the first man in that file."

"Okay, but what does that have to do with Maes Hughes, Greed?"

"Patience, Edward, I'm getting to that part," Greed reprimanded him. "Isaac McDougal was the detective in charge of a certain case: the murder of a young psychologist with the Ishval Police Department. Now, Isaac got close, _real_ close to narrowing down who the killer was until he disappeared. Two days later his body turned up in the Central City river, but was classified as a John Doe. What does this tell you?"

"He found something out he shouldn't have."

"Exactly! He was about to oust someone who worked in the police department, and Homunculus sent a man to kill him in order to keep that asset safe…or should I say assets? After that, they had to go to great lengths to keep the whole issue quiet and prevent people from investigating further. Isaac McDougal just became a name on a piece of paper, and Charlene McDougal got filthy rich in a payoff.

"Fast forward to two years ago when an up and coming head detective named Roy Mustang arrests Shou Tucker on multiple counts. Not too bad for Homunculus to get rid of its screw-up-scientist…until a little birdie named Charlene McDougal reaches their ears with news that Tucker's made a deal. What's Homunculus Corp to do now that their perfect cover-up is falling apart? They kill him. Now we get to Hughes' investigation where he finds the important call to good ol' Charlene and goes to question her only to realize something horrific."

"She knew all about the case…"

"Yep, she knew about the case in details only a cop should know. She realizes her mistake, they pop him, and then kill her to make it look like a suicide and save themselves the trouble. Everything is right again when the Hughes' murder case is moved to Central…at least until you started digging into it. Moral of the story: the police department reeks of Homunculus."

"So, it's not just one or two cops, but a whole network of them?" The realization was suddenly dawning on Ed that this situation went a lot deeper than he had originally warranted.

"They're playing this one for keeps. All I can really say for sure is that they had a man at Ishval who was able to tell them McDougal's progress. They had a man who knew about Tucker's deal, and they moved it to Central because there they could make sure the case was never figured out."

"Who had the case in Central?" Greed's mouth was formed into a thin line.

"I believe that at first it was a Detective Storch before it was transferred to a Detective Raven, but that's as far as I know." Greed stood up and dusted his suit off. "If the cover-ups are starting all over again, it means they're desperate to keep it under wraps. If I were you, I'd get out of this country. That's what I plan to do."

"I don't think that's happening."

"Suit yourself," he said, snapping his sunglasses back on. "Oh, if you see Ling, give him a message for me. Tell him I have a sword I'd like to return to him."

"How do you know Ling?" Ed snapped out and Greed smiled at him again.

"I may have saved his life once, it's not important. Just give him that message. He'll understand it." Greed gave another simple nod to him and began to walk away, pausing only for an instant. "Be careful, Edward."

And he disappeared.

Ed sat there, ruminating over his recent discovery. There was a network of police officers all working for Homunculus Corporation. Thanks to that they were able to assassinate anyone who got too close to the truth. Not to mention that it all started in Ishval with Isaac McDougal and the department psychologist.

Ishval. Where Scar began his work was in Ishval. Where the trail began that lead to Hughes' death was in Ishval.

Ed reached down to grab his cell phone, but stopped, remembering Mustang's words from the night before.

"Excuse me!" Ed called, getting up and walking over to the bearded owner. "Can I use your phone?"

"Sure." Ed thanked him as the man led the forensics specialist to the hotel phone.

"Roy Mustang," answered the clearly exhausted head detective.

"It's Ed. I just met with Greed." All the fatigue vanished from Mustang's voice as he asked his next question.

"What did he find out?"

"A lot, but I'm still not sure how much of it is valid. I have a hunch, but I'd need to run an investigation of my own." Mustang sighed in response.

"How much time do you need?"

"With luck, I can let you know everything by tomorrow evening." The head detective gave him a quick noise of affirmation before the two hung up. Ed thanked the owner again before starting on his way home.

Ishval was very clearly the start of everything going wrong for Homunculus Corp. So that was where he'd start this investigation. He had some other clean contacts that would help him look into things, and he always had Al, if worse came to worst. _Still, the situation is looking up_, Ed thought as he stifled a yawn, stepping into his darkened house. The rest of his family had clearly gone out.

Ed's keys, however, merely slipped from his grasp as he glanced into the kitchen, where a lone figure was sitting; their eyes gleaming in the darkness. A cracking of knuckles was heard as the figure stood and uttered two words. "Hello, Edward."

Yep…he had been right. He was _definitely_ going to be killed.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Another long chapter complete. School naturally delayed this chapter but that's okay, since by the time I post Chapter 13, I will have graduated and moved on to the adult world! Anyway, I hope this chapter is not too confusing and that you understand the overall plot so far. If you don't shoot me a PM (or leave your question in a review). Also, what do you think of the new summary? Is it bettermore eye-catching than the old one? Let me know that. And a last note, as I've stated the last two chapters, I need someone to draw an image cover for me. I've had numerous offers but no submissions, so you still have time. Well, I've talked your ear off enough. Make sure to leave me a review and Dare to Be Silly.**


	13. Chapter 13

**You should notice something distinctive between this chapter and previous Roy chapters. it's subtle…but also obvious. Let me know if you figure it out. Chapter 13 now begins.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 13<span>

"Um, excuse me…Detective Mustang, sir?" The voice that had squeaked the words out was so small, Mustang wasn't even sure that he had heard it. Detective Vorac's head lifted as Mustang turned his own to gaze at the young, mousy woman standing there, her hands clutching a piece of paper.

"You're one of Fokker's people, right?" The young woman nodded furiously and the head detective swiveled around in his chair, facing the bespectacled woman with a frown. "Does he need me for something?"

"Oh…oh n-no, sir!" she stammered out, bowing her head up and down in embarrassment. Now he was really confused. "A-actually, he doesn't know I'm here. I-I-"

Another loud voice interrupted the young woman's babbling, causing everyone to look in the direction of the offender. "Hey, Vorac, we're grabbing a bite to eat. You coming?" Vorac's nose raised hopefully at the question and Mustang bit back an annoyed groan.

"I can handle the rest of the paperwork. Just go." Vorac smiled, his enormous teeth glistening as he bounded off. Despite the small twitch to his lips, he peacefully watched his new partner bound off to meet with Kimblee and Jealot. Of course, he couldn't stand either of them with Kimblee's still-maniacal laugh and Jealot's constant attitude of looking down on other detectives. It only served to annoy him that his partner associated with the two on an almost daily basis. Wrenching himself away from the revolting sight, Mustang focused his attentions back on the young woman. "Anyway, how can I help you, miss…?"

"Sheska, sir," the young woman informed him, a blush tainting her cheeks. "Um…I have a message from Edward Elric, for you."

"Fullmetal?" Now his curiosity was piqued. How did Ed know this woman, and why would he send her with a message? "How do you know Fullmetal?"

"We've been friends a little over a year. I met him when he was working over at North," Sheska explained to him and the head detective nodded. However, she continued to yammer on despite his dismissive gesture. "I also know his wife quite well…I admire her so much."

"And is there a reason that he sent you with a message to me?" Sheska finally seemed to realize that she had been running her mouth and clammed up instantly, with another embarrassed flush to her face.

"He said something about telephones but I didn't quite understand it. Oh, he also asked me to pull some files for him." Something snapped in Mustang's head, and he knew that he must have scowled, owing to the deathly frightened look on the young woman's face. Damn that kid! "I didn't tell anyone! He asked me not to, and I'm pretty good at keeping secrets, even if I am a terrible liar."

"What's the message?" Mustang seethed out through gritted teeth. Sheska swallowed audibly, but stood up straight to deliver the message, reading off the tiny piece of paper.

"He says something like…he's found a link and wants you to meet him at his house right away. I don't know what it all means, but he was rather serious about it." Mustang barely heard her as he flew off his chair, ripping his coat with him.

"Great work, Sheska, thanks!" Mustang breathed as he strode past her. He knew that the woman was likely very confused by his brusque action but paid little attention to it as he practically flapped his way to the station entrance. Standing there was a sopping wet Kain Feury, shaking his head like a dog who had escaped a downpour.

"Oh, boss, leaving already?" he asked and Mustang gave a muffled assent as he slipped his coat on. "Be careful, it's really pouring out there."

"East City rains, huh?" Mustang grumbled out but flashed the young detective a winning smile. "Oh, Feury, there's a pretty Internal Affairs officer by my desk, if you wouldn't mind helping her out."

"Sure…" Feury said abashedly as the head detective gave his subordinate a wink. Flipping his hood up, Roy stepped out into the rain and made a dash for his car. Feury was a good kid, but his age and job precluded him from having any actual dating life. Who knew? Maybe the two of them would hit it off. After all, Ed seemed to trust the young woman, so she couldn't be all that bad.

Thunder rumbled overhead as he got into his car and started it up. He should have expected this, after all, Ed had told him just yesterday that he might have something by today. The thought made him laugh as he started his drive. If somebody had told him just a few days ago that a twenty-year old would be his partner in the most important case of his career, he would have told them to see a shrink. Now, however, there was an odd serenity that filled him at the thought. Ed understood the grief that Mustang was going through, just as Riza had. He didn't tell Roy to stop chasing after the truth. That said something to him.

The lights at the Elric house were on by the time he pulled into their driveway half an hour later. More than thankful that the rain hadn't reached Resembool, Roy stepped on to the porch and knocked on the door, the sound echoing clearly in his ears. Moments later, the door opened and the lovely Winry Elric was standing there, a look of only moderate surprise on her face. "Detective Mustang, Ed didn't tell me you'd be stopping by…though it's not like he tells me much of anything."

"I assume he's home then, Mrs. Elric?" Winry nodded brightly and beckoned the older man inside. It was like a parade of sounds and smells that assailed him as he stepped into the brightly lit home. Chattering was heard from a side room and he could have sworn he heard a sizzle from a frying pan in the kitchen. Then there was the heavenly smell of beef broth and fresh baked rolls. All in all, the place smelled like home…or at least more home-like than Roy's apartment ever had. It was kind of like Gracia's.

"Will you be staying for dinner?" Winry asked him as she shut the door behind him. "I made a huge pot of stew for dinner and enough rolls to feed an army."

"I wouldn't want to impose," Mustang fended off but Winry only laughed lightly, her laugh sounding like wind chimes by the Oceanside.

"Impose? I already have three extra people, what's one more?" Roy just cracked a smile at her but didn't say anything. "There's cheesecake for dessert. Anyway, Ed's in the living room." He thanked her as she bounced off to the kitchen and he went in the direction she had pointed to. He stopped short upon viewing the sight in the living room.

"Fullmetal, can I ask why you're at a table surrounded by police documents that are being read by Mrs. Curtis and a man I assume is your brother?" Roy's question got the attention of the young forensics specialist, who turned to face him with a wide grin.

"I take it Sheska gave you my message," Ed remarked, but Mustang only scowled in his direction. "As for this, don't worry about it; they're all people I trust very much. I just thought I could use an extra hand."

"You certainly have a lot of people you trust…" Ed just shrugged as the young man sitting next to him stood up and offered his hand.

"Sorry about him, we just wanted to help, honestly. Alphonse Elric; I'm Ed's younger brother," he introduced himself and Roy softened a bit, taking the hand kindly. "So, you're the famous Detective Mustang. Brother talks about you a lot…though he mostly uses epithets like Detective Dipstick."

"Stop babbling, Al. And sit down Mustang; dinner won't be ready for a while and we have a lot to talk about." Mustang decided to sweep Ed's insults aside and seat himself next to Izumi, staring at his young colleague expectantly. "Right, so there was a lot we discovered."

"Let's not forget it was me that did the real discovering, you little shrimp," Izumi snapped, whacking her protégé over the head with the file she was holding. Ed was reduced to a jittery mess, his brother patting him soothingly on the back while Izumi slipped the file open on the coffee table.

"I know this guy. Detective McDougal, good guy, even if he was a little gruff around the edges. He disappeared shortly after the bombings," Mustang commented with a frown. "His body was never found."

"Oh, it was found, but not as Isaac McDougal."

"What's your point, kid?" Ed glowered at him and Alphonse quickly leaned across the table to answer in his brother's stead.

"This Homunculus Corporation killed him and made it look like he was just disappearing. It turned out to be one heck of a clean-up job for just one dirty cop in Ishval."

"Wait, you're saying that there was a corrupt cop in _Ishval_, too? How high was this guy to be worth a clean-up over?"

"I kind of wondered over that myself, actually," Ed pointed out before picking up another file and splaying it open. There was no picture but Mustang's quick glance at the file told him it was Scar's. "Then Teacher pointed out something to me: McDougal was investigating the psychologist's death."

"It was only a day after that man's death that Scar blew up the station," Izumi explained but Mustang still couldn't seem to understand what they were getting at. "He went straight for the gullet. If you were working a murder case, wouldn't you find it odd that the day after your victim is murdered, the police station was blown to high heaven?"

"So, Scar and the department psychologist are related?" Ed shrugged and Roy found his lower lip twitching with frustration toward the golden-eyed man. "Then what's the link here?"

"Simple; McDougal thought the same thing and went looking for connections to both cases." Izumi coughed a little but continued on with her thorough relationship. "He must have found some connection and was killed as a result, to protect the person inside: a cop who could kill to protect industrial secrets. In conclusion, Scar was after the same cop McDougal was after when he bombed the station and hospital."

"Though we're still not sure how he's connected to the psychologist. For all the records show, the doctor was a real loner, but that could've easily been altered by someone here at East. Catching Scar would be the easiest way to find it all out," Ed concluded and Mustang found that his frown was deepening even further.

"Yeah, there's just one problem with that, Fullmetal. How do we catch a man who's been a ghost for the better part of ten years? And how do we go about it so this network of corrupt cops doesn't get wind of it?" Needless to say, after Roy asked his question, he didn't like Ed's toothy grin, nor his brother's explanation.

"The three of us did some digging," Al spouted forth and Mustang locked his eyes onto the younger brother. "Did you know that at the time of the bombings there were ten detectives and fifty officers at the Ishval Police Department? Well, about five officers and three detectives were killed between the two bombings, which would be expected."

"Then why is this information relevant to the case?" Izumi simply slipped him a piece of paper and Mustang took a look at it, his eyes widening as he scanned the information. "You're kidding, right? All of those remaining detectives and three other officers, all of whom had become detectives, have since died? !"

"Not just died; murdered. Scar made it look like a natural gas explosion but I read the files and the forensic evidence fits," Ed determined. "Scar has been systematically killing off any officers that have publicly announced they were at the Ishval PD around the time of the bombings."

"What's the plan, then?"

"You're not going to like it," Ed stated simply and Mustang felt shivers flow down his spine. "I do have a plan, but you're not going to like it. First, how much do you trust Chief Grumman?"

"With my life." Ed nodded and Roy cast him a perplexed look. A shifting next to him told him that Izumi's attentions were back on to him, and the head detective looked at her warily, frightened of the wicked grin.

"How do you feel about being bait?" she asked him and Roy spluttered. Before he could formulate an articulate response, the doorbell rang and Winry called for dinner. "Don't worry, should be harmless."

"I'd hardly call being bait as harmless. And what does Grumman have to do with this?"

"I'll run it down for you," Ed expounded. "We're going to set a trap for Scar. We'll have Chief Grumman set up a live press conference where you'll inadvertently let slip about Ishval. That should get Scar calling, where you and the other detectives will have a sting all set up and ready to go. With that, we could have Scar caught by tomorrow night and plenty of info on his target by the next day."

Mustang gazed at Ed with scrutiny for a time until Winry's calls for dinner reached him again. "Damn it, fine. You can't make it big if you don't take risks, right? We'll call Grumman tonight."

"After dinner! I'm famished." Roy could only laugh as Ed stood and stretched, moving to follow his brother and teacher out of the living room. "You coming, Mustang? Winry's stew is to die for and we've got more than enough."

Somehow, Ed's invitation had never sounded so warm, despite the tone. His face split into a soft smile and he nodded, getting up quickly. Ed's footsteps faded into the kitchen and Roy followed after him, catching yet another whiff of stew as he entered. "What the-You're Yao Ling…I mean Ling Yao!"

"So I am," the Xingese president said jovially, a wide smile stretching his face. "Are you a detective? I seem to remember seeing you at the station."

"Er…Roy Mustang." Ling just waved in greeting before placing his head on the table woefully.

"Is dinner almost ready…I'm hungry!" he whined and Ed slapped him over the head.

"Stop complaining you squinty-eyed freak!" Ed snapped, taking a bowl from an ebony-haired girl that was setting the table.

"He's right," the girl said in a high pitched voice," if you want to eat quicker then help us out!"

"But I like being lazy once in a while…oh, and I'm not a freak, brother," Ling uttered as Roy took a seat next to Izumi, taking the bowl with thanks.

"Yes, you are. You claim to be the same age as me but have a freakish adult face…and you mooch off of people!" Ed ducked a flying pen that was thrown by the woman sitting next to Ling before continuing on. "Plus, I'm not your brother!"

"But Mei is marrying your brother, so that makes us brothers!"

"Not until the wedding, brother-in-law, dearest." Ed's skin had tightened considerably with the smile he gave. Ling gave his own customary Cheshire grin back before Winry strode by, knocking them both on their heads with bowls of stew. Roy simply leaned across the table to Alphonse, who was chatting politely with the woman he assumed was Mei.

"Is it always like this at dinner?" he asked and Alphonse laughed softly.

"Never a dull moment in the Elric household!"

"Which reminds me, squinty-eyes," Ed quickly ducked a ruler that was thrown at his head, "Greed had a message for you."

"Oh, you know Greed? Charming man," Ling sang out, taking a bite of his stew.

"Lecherous defiler of Xingese traditions," the woman next to Ling spat, and he responded by patting her on the back soothingly, causing her to blush.

"Come now, Lan Fan, he does have his good qualities. Anyway, what was the message?"

"He says he had a sword to return to you…or something like that. What's it mean?" Ed asked, gulping down his own stew. Roy watched the exchange with only mild interest, chomping on what could have been said to be the most delicious stew he had ever tasted.

"He wants me to get him out of the country, and since I owe him on, I'll have to get on it. Mmm, Winry, this stew is delicious."

"I agree," Roy finally spoke as Ed's wife beamed at him. "You know, I have a good friend who has a lot of great recipes, if you'd be interested."

"Sure thing, I always like making new foods."

"All right, less talking, more eating!" And they did just that, the atmosphere at the table light and pleasant. It was only after their stomachs were full and the house filled with pleasant conversation, that Roy and Ed took their leave to return to the station.

It ended up being lucky for them when they caught Grumman as he was exiting the station. Only a quarter of an hour later, and Ed had explained the entire plan to the chief. Grumman sat there a moment, contemplating what had just been asked of him.

"Let me understand, boys," he mused," you want me to use an abandoned house, tout it up as Mustang's place by using a live press conference, all to catch the man you _think_ may be involved in Claudio's shooting? You want to put any number of my officers at risk and destroy what is now considered to be public property just to catch someone who may or may not be involved in a _Central City_ case?" Mustang gave a light cough. _Well, when you put it like that…_

"Pretty much, sir…" Ed admitted brashly and Grumman surveyed him.

"All right, then, I'll call in some favors." Mustang pitched forward in shock. Was that all it took to get the chief to sign off on this? "I'm not a fan of jurisdiction. You know that, Mustang. If our guys can get him when Central can't, then jurisdiction can go to hell. Just don't let me down."

"You're way too on board with this, sir," Mustang noted and Grumman chuckled as he stood.

"I like forward thinking. Just make sure your team is prepped for the operation. I wish you luck." And Grumman took his leave. Ed yawned wide, standing up.

"Well, we've got a long day ahead of us."

"Yeah…" Mustang breathed elatedly. "Hey, Ed, thanks for inviting me to dinner."

Ed scratched the side of his head before responding. "Yeah, well, you can thank me after we catch Scar. Until then, let's stay focused. Okay, partner?" Mustang scoffed.

"Deal."

* * *

><p>"Just breathe and relax naturally. It's only going to be a few questions." Roy tugged at the collar of his shirt, where the tiny microphone was sitting, neatly placed for minimal comfort. He really hated this idea, but at least Ed's plan had sounded sane…up until this point.<p>

"You're sure this will be airing live?" he asked the reporter who nodded at him with a wide grin.

"It's not very often that Grumman allows us to interview one of his head detectives outside of an investigation, so if he attached a stipulation to it, we'll bite either way." Roy breathed in nervously, but accepted the answer. It wasn't so much the fact that he was talking with a reporter here, but rather that this interview could just as well get him killed. "All right, we're on in ten…nine…"

_Damn it, Fullmetal, this better work,_ he thought savagely, affixing a somewhat natural smile on his face as the cameraman nodded to the reporter. "I'm here live with Roy Mustang, head detective of the East City Police Department, outside his home here in Upper East City. Tell me detective, you're quite young for your position, yet the crime rate goes down by the day while solved cases skyrocket."

Mustang swallowed before replying, "I know a lot of people may be deterred by my age, but I still promise to bring the best leadership that I can in order to keep crime from rising, especially in places like Ishval."

"You served in Ishval, correct?" _Do or die moment, now the whole world will know,_ Roy thought as he nodded toward the reporter.

"Yes, I was stationed there after my days in the academy. I'd like to think it was my effort in helping the citizens and other officers after the bombings there that recommended me for my current position."

"You've been head detective for five years now, correct? Do you have any idea on where you will go in the future of the department?" Roy gave out a laugh in his attempt to seem casual.

"I can't even say whether or not Chief Grumman is going to retire anytime soon, so for the moment I would have to say no comment." The reporter nodded before leaning in slightly. Glancing behind the man he saw the cameraman rolling his hand, indicating that they needed to wrap soon.

"And are there any big cases lately. You recently solved the Chopper case, if I remember correctly."

"Well, I can't comment on any ongoing investigations, but rest assured, as head detective of East City, I will endeavor to put all criminals behind bars and keep East City safe."

"Thank you for your time, detective." A second later, the filming ended and Roy felt himself breathe again. He exchanged words of thanks with the crew while removing his microphone and after only a few minutes, was walking back to his car, calling Ed with his earpiece.

"I saw it," Ed stated as soon as he picked up the phone. Roy scowled into his windshield as he responded to the young man.

"I sounded like a pompous ass…it's why I hate press conferences. Though considering it was only one reporter I could hardly call it that," Roy complained.

"I thought it was an accurate representation," Ed chuckled out and the scowl the head detective was wearing only deepened. "I'm heading out now-oh! Winry wanted me to tell you that you should come over for dinner more often. I swear, she likes cooking almost as much as she likes automail."

"No stipulations?" Roy asked and he could practically feel the confusion on the other end of the line.

"It's dinner, Mustang, not a course in college. We don't bother with pre-reqs."

"Hughes always used to make me bring Riza to dinner."

"Yeah…well, I'm not a matchmaker and I don't want to meddle in your almost non-existent love life. I've got better things to do than get you and your crush together."

"You do realize I have a gun, right?" The threat was thinly veiled, but Ed didn't seem frightened in the very least. The churning of an engine was heard as Roy waited for his response.

"And I have a brain…what's your point?" Roy just groaned at the forensics specialist's cheeky comment. "All right, you remember the plan, right?"

"Oh, I'm not sure…we only went over it three different times!" Calming himself down, Roy relaxed in his car. "I've got Havoc, Breda, Feury, and Armstrong monitoring the front of the house and Vorac is on the radio back at the station. I'll drive out to get some food and come back. Do you think that will be enough time?"

"Scar worked fast back in Ishval, so I have no doubt he'll work quickly here. I'm just glad that we got a house that was only foreclosed recently. Anyway, I'll be there soon." Roy grunted as Ed terminated the call. Taking off his earpiece, he started his own car and drove away from the site of their operation.

He had to admit to himself that the whole idea of this plan was risky. There were far too many variables that they could not control, and Mustang hated it when he couldn't manipulate events in his favor. One wrong misstep could cause a loss of life or limb and that was something he was not willing to see happen. Yet, at the same time, it was the only alternative he could possibly see working. For once, he could taste the possibility of success in the air. It wouldn't be easy, he knew, but if this operation worked, then he was one step closer to the truth.

Roy finally came to a stop outside a burger joint and went inside to get some food. His phone lit up with a text as he waited in the line for the mid-morning rush.

_Ishvalan guy sighted, hood conceals face. Move in? –Braidykins (P.S. Do we still have to use those stupid code names that Jacqueline came up with when she was smashed?)_

Roy chuckled as he stepped up and placed a light order with the cashier girl, who blushed a little. After his order was taken, Roy turned back to his phone to respond to Breda.

_We can't arrest someone until we know they've committed a crime, otherwise we'll be accused of racial profiling. Wait until I get back._ By the time he was done typing out his text, his order had arrived and Roy took it to a table to eat. The sighting of an Ishvalan man, assuming of course that it was Scar, meant he didn't necessarily have to take his time chowing down on his food. However, he still decided to be deliberate in order to increase their chances of success.

After clearing his order, Mustang dumped his trash (including the non-surreptitious phone number from the enamored cashier) and strode back out to his car. Taking a deep breath, he started on his way back to the abandoned house. Of course, the house wasn't entirely abandoned since they had to at least make it look lived in, but that was just so the plan would work. It took him another forty-five minutes to get back, but he was pleased to see not only the near unidentifiable cars of his team, but also the pale red of Ed's car as well. Mustang quickly parked his car on the side of the street and stepped out, nodding covertly to his stationed men. As he started to walk towards the house, a motorcycle rushed past him and Roy forced himself to cool down from the near accident.

"This will go just fine, right?" he whispered to himself as he stepped on the garden path and slipped into the house. For all intents and purposes, the house looked as if no one had stepped inside it since they had furnished the place last night; the head detective wasn't about to take any chances though, and he quickly went through the house, slipping quietly out the back door. No sooner had he stepped on the back patio that he heard a yell of "we got him!" and Mustang blasted off for the front lawn.

True to the cry he had heard, the hooded Ishvalan man was pinned down by Armstrong a small distance from the house, and Feury was next to him, holding a box. "We caught him trying to sneak inside, carrying this box."

"I'm telling you, there's nothing in it. It's just an easy-bake oven!" the Ishvalan man yelped as Armstrong flexed his muscles threateningly.

"A likely story! Ovens can be bombs just as my muscles have been said to surpass those of heavenly deities!" the bigger man proclaimed triumphantly.

"I swear…it's true…" the man croaked out in protest. Feury opened up the box and showed the contents to Mustang. True to his word, it was an easy-bake oven; and while Armstrong was right, something about the situation was beginning to be unsettling. "Look, I got paid 2000 cenz to put this oven inside this house. The guy said it was a practical joke between frien-"

_BOOM!_

That was the second time in Mustang's life that he had ever been close to an explosion, and just like the first, it threw him backwards. Thankfully, the lawn was plush and softened the blow, only leaving his ears ringing in the wake of it. "Armstrong! Feury! You guys all right?"  
>"Aw, man, my glasses cracked, but I'm fine!"<p>

"Most splendid! These muscles of protection have been passed down the Armstrong line for-"

"Fuck!" Mustang screamed, cutting off Armstrong's rant. The Ishvalan man was unconscious but the explosion had flipped his hood up, revealing only one thing. "There's no scar on his forehead! This isn't Scar!"

"But then, where-" A loud churning noise was heard as the motorcycle that nearly hit Mustang earlier went racing down the road. This time he was able to catch a glimpse of the man on the cycle and noticed his clearly dark skin and large scar on his forehead.

"That's him! Let's move!" Mustang barked out and the three left the unconscious man in order to slip into their cars. As Roy buckled in, a red car zoomed past him and the head detective cursed. With a flick of the switch, his siren went on and Roy pulled out, racing after the two of them. Not missing a beat, he quickly grabbed his radio transceiver. "All available units in Northern East City respond. This is Head Detective Roy Mustang. Myself, and Detectives Havoc, Breda, Feury and Armstrong are in pursuit of an Ishvalan male with a scar on his forehead who is driving a motorcycle. Also in pursuit is Edward Elric in a red S23. Suspect is considered dangerous and must be captured alive."

The slight burst of static on the end of the line was enough to give him a sort of acknowledgement and Mustang revved his car up to full throttle. Ed was still in his range of sight and despite his own lack of siren, the young man seemed to be handling his chase rather well. Roy swerved out of the way of a slow moving car and squeezed between another two. It wasn't easy chasing a man on a motorcycle, considering he could easily slip through places that cars could not. A sudden movement caught Roy's eyes as he saw a car backing out of its driveway. Roy slammed on the brakes, and thanks to the previous day's rain, his car was spun into a fishtail, spiraling down the street with minimal control.

After nearly half a minute of spinning, the head detective gained control of his car and sped forward once again. Of course, the downside to his little escapade was that he had completely lost sight of his quarry. "Someone please tell me they have eyes on Fullmetal!" The lack of response he received was disconcerting. Mustang swore loudly as he entered what was possibly one of the most populated sections of the city. Scar was good; he would certainly be able to lose them here. Mustang reached for his earpiece and quickly called Ed. The phone rang but no one picked up, so the older man decided on a different tactic.

"Is there anything you need?" came Vorac's voice and Mustang breathed a sigh of relief.

"Vorac, are there any other sightings of Scar or Fullmetal?" he asked breathlessly and it seemed an eternity before the man gave an answer, an audible sound of swallowing punctuating the air before it.

"No, but there was an accident on Tanner Avenue. Something about a red car driving through a fruit stand and forcing a motorcycle off the road. Apparently, when the officers arrived the man was fine and off his motorcycle while the car was empty." Mustang barely heard the last words, swinging his car in the direction of Tanner Avenue. Vorac seemed to be about to go on but Mustang merely gave his thanks and ended the call, roughly picking up his radio.

"All units respond to Tanner Avenue. I repeat, all units respond to Tanner Avenue," Mustang shouted as he swerved his way around civilians. "Suspect is likely in a struggle with Fullmetal-Edward Elric. Do not harm Elric!" Roy didn't wait around for confirmation, merely dragging his car into Tanner Avenue, where the evidence of the car chase was pure and utter chaos. Fruit was scattered all over the street and Mustang quickly identified Ed's car and Scar's motorcycle, both heavily damaged. The first responders had already pulled up and blocked off an alleyway. Roy quickly pulled his car into a park and unbuckled himself. With all haste, he slid out of the car and whipped his gun out, dashing over.

"I'm sorry, sir, but we can't get a clear shot. Not without hitting Mr. Elric!" the officer responded. Roy had little time for such words, quickly pushing through the barricade of officers, his gun held to bare.

Unfortunately, he didn't need it. Because Ed was standing there, as well, a gun in his hands that was trained on Scar.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Well, it's been a while but I have my reasons for that. School was a nasty little thing to me during my last few weeks of my college career. Then I had the brilliant idea of posting this today! It's been one year since I posted this chapter! While I only have 13 chapters so far, rest assured, I will start writing at a much quicker speed in the future. Big stuff is coming up in the story, so look forward to it. On my profile page, I said I would have a special surprise…that's not happening this time, but it will be there with the next chapter, look forward to it. Also, my request for an image cover is still open for those who wish to partake. Just message me. Also, make sure you leave me a review and Dare to be Silly.<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

**This chapter contains extreme dumpster abuse…so if that offends you, read at your own discretion.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14<span>

Ed felt his heart starting to race as the motorcycle sped past him, offering the young man a split second view of the occupant under the hood. With the flick of his wrist, the engine of Ed's car roared to life. He didn't care if Mustang was knocked flat on his back, or the fact that he wasn't a police officer. Scar was his quarry, had been from the start. This whole plan had been designed down to the last detail in order to catch the raving murderer. Clearly there had been a hitch.

Ed spun the wheel viciously, quickly jolting out of its space next to the curb, and Ed pressed roughly on the accelerator, speeding after the motorcycle. It didn't take long for the red car to catch up to the motorcycle that Scar was on. The Ishvalan man turned his head back and Ed could clearly see the pale scar on his forehead. A sudden movement distracted him and when Ed turned back, he saw Scar darting in between two cars. With a gritting of his teeth, Ed rotated the wheel with haste, mounting the curb.

A loud horn sounded, but Ed didn't waste the time necessary to even give the driver the middle finger as he swerved back on to the road. Scar's motorcycle was weaving back and forth between lanes, but Ed constantly made sure to keep him in his sights. Buildings quickly flew past the two of them and Ed noticed how the structure of the housing was gradually changing. Where the houses had been close together, they had still been houses at the start of the chase. Now, however, the two storied buildings had given way to high-rise apartment buildings. Scar was taking the two of them into the heart of East City.

Sure enough, after a block or two, stands started appearing, indicating that they had entered the market. Ed scowled; Scar was trying to lose himself in the crowd. Knowing this was their one and only chance to get the Ishvalan man, the forensics specialist decided to throw caution to the wind. He quickly jerked his wheel to the right and honked loudly, causing a number of people to jump out of his way. In no time at all, Ed had pulled up alongside Scar. Another twirl of the wheel and Scar was forced to the side of the road with Ed quickly following him. A fruit stand was quickly approaching and Scar swerved, nicking the stand. Ed, on the other hand, didn't care, plowing into the stand and causing fruit to scatter everywhere. Scar seemed to be caught off-guard by this rash action, whipping his head around.

Ed just pressed harder, his car completing its demolition of the poor stand before finally catching up to the bewildered Scar and ramming his motorcycle's back. In the instant that Ed's car hit the smaller vehicle, Scar leapt from his cycle and rolled off, dashing for a nearby alleyway. Ed pulled his car up short as his hood was quickly smashed in by the motorcycle. As soon as the forces of inertia slowed the car, Ed jumped out and sped for the alleyway that Scar had escaped to. He didn't care about his car as long as he was in a good enough position to take Scar down; after all, his wife was the best mechanic in the east.

"Scar!" Ed yelled furiously. The brief outburst caused the man to look back at him, though it wasn't as if he'd had a choice. Ed smirked at how lucky he was: the two were in a dead end alley with no way out except for behind the young man. With a tribal cry, Ed ran at Scar and took a swing with his fist.

Of course, he underestimated Scar's strength and speed, only realizing his folly when his back was slammed against the brick wall and air was forced out of his lungs. Scar took another dash for the exit, but Ed recovered quicker than that, latching himself onto the Ishvalan's legs. The both of them took a tumble, a gun dislodging from Scar's belt. Ed quickly scrambled over Scar's form, dashing for the gun. He hadn't quite made it when Scar head-butted him in the stomach, sending him sprawling near the exit. Wheezing profusely, Ed struggled to stand as Scar made his dash for the gun, aiming it at the young man.

"Out of the way, boy!" he snarled, his voice deep and growling. Ed observed his surroundings as he heard the faint clicking of the gun. A garbage dumpster rested in the latter half of the alley, sitting directly under a fire escape. Behind him was the chattering populace and the ever encroaching whining of police sirens. "I will not hesitate to shoot you."

"Like hell I'll let you!" In an impressive feat of leg strength, Ed planted his right foot and swung at Scar, his automail leg quickly making contact with the killer's gun hand. As before, the gun flew away from Scar, who recoiled in pain, striking the brick wall with extraordinary force. The gun went off with a loud BANG!, the bullet striking the side of the dumpster harmlessly.

"An automail leg, is it?" Scar mused to Ed, who glared at him with loathing. "You remind me much of my brothers who have seen combat in Creta. What hell have you seen?"

"Why don't I show you? !" As the final syllables left his mouth, Ed ducked low and swung his leg in an attempt to trip his opponent. Scar jumped to avoid the blow and came down in a crouch, quickly grabbing Ed by his jacket. Ed screeched loudly as the Ishvalan lifted him over his head and threw him into the dumpsters. It was lucky chance that his body had been thrown in such a way that allowed him to use his automail leg to soften the blow, though it still sent shivers into his very teeth.

Ed's head was sent into a daze for a moment, but the blaring lights of police vehicles brought him back. He laughed softly; now Scar couldn't get out the way he had wanted to. Of course, he realized, it didn't mean there weren't other ways to get out, and the tramping on the dumpster reminded him of such. Spinning around, Ed's hand shot forward, scrabbling on his foe's jacket. The distraction was adequate and Scar was forced to abandon his chance for escape. The hard grip on his jacket propelled Scar backward, tearing at the leather that was its makeup. A kick outward made Ed release his grip in order to duck. By the time he looked up, Scar had discarded his jacket, the impressive tattoos on his arms gleaming amongst his bulk of muscles.

"Must you insist on getting in my way?" Scar growled out before lunging at him. Scar's right hand struck out, aiming for the side of Ed's face. Ed made a swift block with his own right hand. The Ishvalan's eyes widened as Ed smirked wickedly. Up until now, it had been Scar who controlled the battle, so Ed had never had a chance to show his combat skills. Scar struck again, this time with his left hand. Once again, Ed blocked before pushing his own offensive, his fists flying out. As expected, Scar was able to block every single one of them, but in doing so had pushed himself further away from the fire escape, and his way out.

Ed aimed a punch toward him, but Scar quickly caught the fist and prepared to throw the young man once again. "Not…this time!" Ed's left hand grabbed Scar's hand and used it as leverage to jettison his knee into the older man's crotch. Naturally, Scar managed to move out of the way, the attack instead connecting with his abdomen. The assault clearly staggered Scar and he let go of Ed, stumbling backwards. Ed dropped from his position and sped forward, his next punch landing squarely in Scar's gut.

Scar dodged Ed's next attack with alacrity, but missed the incoming attack from his left leg, leaving him sprawled on the ground. Ed punched downward as Scar rolled away towards the dumpsters. The young specialist swore loudly through gritted teeth as his right hand made contact with concrete, tearing the skin of his knuckles. Scar was scrambling to get up as Ed blocked the pain that his hand was feeling. More than anger was starting to course through his veins now; now it was the sheer determination to beat this guy. He always had loved a challenge, and Scar was certainly giving him one. Even he could admit how skilled the darker skinned man was, and despite all the signs indicating that this battle could go south at any moment, Ed ignored the bloody mess that was his hand and ran forward, his left leg preventing Scar from standing by kicking him into the dumpster. His right hand once again aimed for Scar's face, and like before, his fist only made contact with the stoic metal. However, this time his legs were left wide open and his opponent easily used it to his advantage.

Ed slipped, his head banging on the dumpster, a small cut opening up on his forehead. He swore again, only as Scar's fist made contact with his stomach. The momentum carried him forward and the forensics specialist was thrown against the insurmountable brick wall. The force with which he had struck the wall hadn't been too great, but enough to once again daze Ed. He saw Scar rushing at him, pure malice glowing in his eyes, and Ed backed up a few centimeters, suddenly fearing for his life. He didn't want to die here! But still…Scar had killed Winry's parents. Wasn't that enough to see this fight through to the end? Scar was getting ever closer, and that was when Ed felt it behind him: the gun.

In the few seconds after Ed had registered the gun was there, he had whipped it out and aimed it at the advancing Ishvalan. Scar froze for a split second, enough time for Ed to strike out with his automail leg and send the man sprawling backward. Ed struggled to stand, his head pounding and the cuts on his forehead and hand sending pangs through his body. Nonetheless, he steadied himself, leveling the gun at Scar, who stared at him as he tried to regain his breath. Voices were heard from beyond the barricade and Ed saw a figure enter the alleyway, his own gun held to bear.

"About time you got here, Mustang! Did you take a side trip or something?" Ed snarled as Mustang surveyed him with a mixture of alarm and indignation. Past that, Ed paid the head detective little mind, turning back to Scar, who didn't dare to make a move. "All right, Scar, it's over."

"Are you going to shoot me, boy?" Scar sounded calm, completely unfazed by the weapon in his face.

"He's right, Fullmetal, you don't have the authority to do that," Mustang reminded him with a stern tone, but Ed refused to shift from his position. "Put the gun down, Ed."

"Why should I?" he spat, sparing only the briefest of glances at the detective. "Scar needs to answer for everything he's done!"

"You think I don't know that!" Mustang protested vehemently. "I was there the day he blew up the police station. I lost some of my friends that day, so I want him to answer for his crimes too. But the second you pull that trigger, you've turned from being a man of the law into a mindless vigilante."

"He killed Winry's parents! He killed Nina! And for what? !" Ed was sure by this point that his cries were echoing over the whole damn city, but the anger and injustice kept bubbling forth. "Why did you blow up that hospital? ! They were doctors-civilians, and you killed them!"

"Why ask me for an answer when you have already decided that the one I will give is not adequate enough?" Scar answered sagely and Mustang turned to keep his gun on the man.

"Because I want to know what possessed you to take the lives of people who had done nothing but help others."

"That is an answer gotten in an interrogation room," Mustang pointed out, "not while being held at gunpoint. Do you understand me, Elric? That's what justice is!"

"Don't try to use the word 'justice' like it's your own personal calling, Mustang." Ed's eyes had become all but slits now as he continued to glare at the murderer in front of him. "If you knew this man were Hughes' killer, you'd shoot him dead without a second thought."

"As far as I know, he's not though; and that still doesn't change the fact that you have no authority to pull that trigger." Ed's hands trembled on the gun. The detective was right that the second he pulled the trigger he'd be just as much of a criminal as the man he now held at gunpoint. But…

"If you're going to shoot, I'd suggest you do it quickly…before you lose your nerve," Scar said, causing the young man's hands even more so.

"Don't listen to him, Ed!" Mustang snapped out. "He may deserve to die, but do you really think you're the one that should do it? You're not a killer!"

"But…Winry's parents…and Nina…" Ed felt his hands tighten around the cold metal of the weapon.

"Yes, they're dead, and it's tragic; but do you really think they'd want you to do this?" The detective's words suddenly broke through to Ed's logical side, and his grip slackened, albeit only slightly. "The Rockbells were doctors. They saved lives and would probably look down on anybody that took them, even if that meant including their son-in-law.

"So, just think, Ed. Think about what they would do in this situation, and think about your wife. Do you want her to be the wife of a killer?"

_"Don't you ever think about it, Winry? I mean, don't you ever hate the person who killed your parents?"_

_"Hmm? Never really gave it much thought. Sure, I have to hate the man who took mom and dad from me…but at the same time, I try not to think about it…because they're gone and they can't come back."_

_"You never wanted revenge?"_

_"Stop being stupid, Ed! Mom and dad would never want me to keep obsessing over their deaths. That's why they were doctors: they wanted to work with the living."_

"Put down the gun, Ed, and we can make this all right," Mustang insisted as Ed's conversation with Winry kept playing over and over again. "Put down the gun and trust me to do my job right. Trust your partner."

_Stop being stupid, Ed!_ Ed breathed in and out, Winry's chiding over his foolishness going around on a loop.

In…_Why _did Winry _always_ have to be there?

Out…Of course…that was why. He loved her, and he didn't want to see her cry. This would make her cry again. If she knew about what he was even contemplating, it would break her heart. She had never cared, even if the man had done irreparable damage to her. She kept living, and working for the living, because it was what her parents would have wanted.

And she gave him a leg to live…but not to take others' lives. So, Ed let go of the gun, the metal slipping from his fingers and falling onto the concrete. The final _CLANG_ of his decision rang in his ears as Mustang quickly moved in to arrest Scar, quickly replaced with the sounds of his own breathing. His eyes saw nothing but the brick wall that his enemy had been in front of just moments before. Numbness filled every pore of his body…and then he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You're not a killer, Ed, and that's a good thing," Roy assured him. Ed just heaved in a huge breath.

"I know that. I just can't believe that you were the one to snap me out of it." Roy looked offended for the briefest of moments before clapping Ed on the back again.

"Well, you got him, huh?" Ed nodded solemnly, his heart still thumping away wildly inside his chest.

"Yeah…now I just want to know why," Ed said with a grave look dominating his face.

"Then let's go find out, huh?" Mustang answered him with a smirk, waving the forensics specialist forward. Ed followed with another deep sigh. "We'll take my car. I had Havoc and Breda take Scar in for booking, so he's in good hands."

Ed grunted in acknowledgement, but said nothing more. In fact, he realized later that he could barely remember a single thing from his ride back to the police station. It was literally just a big blur to him. Winry's face kept appearing in his mind, as if reminding him of what he almost did. He already felt pretty crummy for even thinking of it, but then she just had to come and taunt him even more. It was certainly a good thing he had decided to not go through with it. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life with Winry hating him for becoming a killer; that would have been no life at all.

"He's in Room B. Hav and I will be in the box."

"All right, thanks, Breda." Ed snapped out of his otherwise delirious state to see Mustang leading them down to the interrogation room. "I'll let you sit in the room, but I'm asking all questions."

"Sure, whatever…" Ed mumbled, catching a glimpse of the file that was now in the detective's hands. Mustang paused outside the door to spare Ed a look of discernment before pushing into the interrogation room.

Scar looked up as they entered, his eyes remaining clear and focused in Ed's mind. He was cuffed to the table which was bolted to the floor. His gleaming tattoos were exposed, their intricate patterns snaking their way up his arms and Ed's own sight was focused on them as he sat in the chair next to Mustang. There was a brief void in the room until Mustang flipped open the folder he was holding.

"Scar…one of the most notorious mass murderers ever known…We ran your fingerprints and who knew that you served in the Special Forces?" Mustang quipped and Ed looked at him, surprised. "I guess that's where you got your tattoos from?"

"For the most part," Scar answered him shortly.

"And the scar?"

"Combat in Creta. Look, can we cut to the chase? I'm willing to offer up a full confession."

"So easily?" Mustang had one eyebrow quirked. Scar growled in what Ed assumed was frustration.

"I am not going to fight it when you have enough evidence to prosecute and get a guilty verdict."

"All right, then. First question, were you the one behind the Ishval Bombings?" Mustang's gaze had suddenly become sharp and Ed found himself more than grateful he was on this side of the table.

"Yes." The answer had been curt and the detectives next question was equally so.

"Why?"  
>"My brother. He was a psychologist in your police department…and was murdered by one of your own." Ed and Mustang shared a look as Scar continued on. "I was part of the bomb-making squad when I was in the Special Forces, so making one was a simple task."<p>

"I'm sorry, back up a second. You said your brother, the department psychologist, was 'murdered by one of our own'?" Mustang repeated. "How do you know this? What evidence did you have?"

"My brother was a righteous man! He was well-loved in the community, particularly for his outreach programs!" Scar's face alighted with a fury as he explained his knowledge. "No one in Ishval would have hurt my brother. Not for petty change or anything!"

"That's fairly circumstantial, all things considered. Sometimes things happen."

"He was shot with a gun that is the same caliber as the one you policemen used," Scar told them, his anger seemingly abated. "My brother and I shared an apartment in Ishval since I'd not had time to buy one since I returned from deployment in Creta. He didn't return home from work that night, so I went and followed his route home and found his body. He was shot twice from the front. I knew how to read the bullet holes…it was part of my training."

"What caliber?"

".45 caliber." Mustang nodded his head, a frown on his face.

"So, that's the reason for the bombings. You knew that an officer had done it, but not who."

"I was angry. In my anger and hatred I sought vengeance for my brother's soul and decided to take it out on the ones that I believed were the objects of my hatred. Since I did not know who committed this heinous crime, I used a tactic that would hit many in one fell swoop."

"Then why did you bomb the hospital? !" Ed yelled, standing up violently. Scar looked at him with doleful eyes as Mustang moved to drag him back into his chair. "Why…?"

"I only meant to harm the officers that were either injured or stationed there. Any others were unfortunate casualties." Ed felt the anger still stirring within him, but he managed to keep it in check. "I apologize for whatever pain-"

"Save it. It's not me you should apologize to." Ed slumped back in his seat, glowering at the floor as though it had wronged him somehow. So…Scar's brother had been the psychologist in Ishval. All along, Scar had been going down the same path of vengeance as he and Mustang. But somewhere along the way, Ed had turned off the path. All that remained now was seeing where Mustang's path would take him.

"Well, now that we have the why for the bombings out of the way…" Mustang announced, clearing his throat loudly. "Were you at the gala in Central on Sunday night?"

"Yes. But I did not kill that man," Scar objected and once more, Mustang raised his eyebrow. "I went there because I had heard various police officers would be there and I was planning to get enough information for my next mark. I had no weapons and was nowhere near the roof of any building."

"You seem to know an awful lot about the shooting."

"Do you really think that after spending five years in the Amestrian Special Forces, I wouldn't know these things?"

"A fair point," Mustang acceded. "You were not the one that killed Prince Claudio, then?"

"No, I did not. Nor did I see the shooter. As soon as I heard the ruckus caused by the assassination, I fled in hoped of not being incriminated or caught."

"All right…all right, one more question." Mustang's eyes abruptly flashed with fire. "Did you kill Detective Maes Hughes?" Ed flicked his eyes to the head detective but said nothing.

"No. I've never even heard of the man." Mustang sighed before putting all his papers back into his folder.

"Well-"

"Hey, boss. You might want to grab Fullmetal and get in here," came Breda's voice through the speaker in the room. Ed quickly stood and immediately exited from the room as Mustang excused them. Inhaling and exhaling loudly, Ed paused outside the door to the interrogation box. It was becoming just a little too much.

"You all right, Fullmetal?" Roy asked softly, almost father-like. Taking a moment to right his head before answering, he nodded silently. There was a brief moment where neither felt the need to say anything. Then, "How does it feel? Finally catching him?"

"It…doesn't feel like anything. I just feel like the thing I've chased after for years is gone, and now I'm left with nothing." Ed ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm himself. "Guess I have to find something new to strive for."

That seemed to settle the subject and the both of them entered into the small room. Ed froze and Roy bumped into him. Standing before them was Commissioner Bradley, a cup of tea perched delicately in his hands. He nodded to them discreetly as he took a sip, his eyes crinkling with pleasure. "Thank you for the tea, Detective Breda. Oh, Detective Havoc, I believe we can escort our serial killer to the holding cells, assuming you're finished with him, of course."

"Er…I believe so, sir," Mustang answered snappily, sidling into the room from behind Ed. At the commissioner's request, Breda and Havoc quietly took their leave of the room, leaving the two partners alone with the man. Bradley nodded to himself, turning to look through the two-way mirror into the interrogation room.

"Quite the thing, Mustang, quite the thing," Bradley stated, never turning to face them.

"Yes…I'm sorry, forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here, sir?"

"Do I need an alternative reason to come and see to the capture of Prince Claudio's assassin?"

"It wasn't him, sir," Mustang protested resolutely. Bradley gave a small half-nod before turning back to the two of them.

"Well, either way, you've saved Central a lot of trouble. The Ishvalan Bomber, in the flesh. I think you made this quite the commendable exercise." Ed continued staring at the commissioner, the usual icy grip freezing his heart. "However, as I understand it, this was quite the reckless and dangerous one, as well."

"No one was hurt, as far as I remember," Mustang commented and Bradley grunted out his assent.

"But they could have been. You're head detective, Mustang. You should be setting a better example for the younger officers." Mustang frowned in the corner of Ed's eyes, and the young man's heart began to increase almost tenfold in its beatings. "Unfortunately, while I'd like to remonstrate you for your imprudent behavior, I still need a man like you on the force. Crime rates won't lower on their own and criminals won't catch themselves.

"As for yourself, Fullmetal, I'm afraid I can't be quite so lenient."

"What?" The single word that dropped from Ed's mouth was filled with dread.

"You're not a detective, despite what your prowess might say," Bradley told him frankly. "You destroyed a fruit stand in town and I just can't have that kind of cocksure attitude from my forensics specialists. You're hired to run forensics, not play at being detective."

"But, sir-"

"I'm sorry, Fullmetal, but I'm suspending you for a week. That should help you to get your head back on straight."

"Sir, I can't take a break from work! Without me, they'll be swamped. We're understaffed as it is."

"I'm sure they'll manage. They did before you came here." Bradley sighed and placed a congenial hand on Ed's shoulder. "This is for your own good, Fullmetal. Your desk will be waiting for you when you come back next Thursday, so go and enjoy your time off with your wife." Ed bristled and grumbled, hoping to find some way out of it.

When, at last, he could see no escape, he grit his teeth and reluctantly replied with a "Yes, sir."

"Excellent. Can we have Officers Ross and Brosh drive him home? Have a splendid vacation, Fullmetal." Commissioner Bradley then left the room. Ed stayed for a moment more before following the commissioner's footsteps, ignoring Mustang calling out to him. He didn't want to think anymore. From Scar to suspension, this day had barely a speck of good news, and it was getting the better of him.

"Ready to go, Mister Elric?" came a female voice. Ed briefly looked at the woman that had acknowledged him, recognizing her. "I'll take your silence as a yes. Come with me." Ed didn't bother to protest, instead just forcing his body to go through the motions. By the end of his trip, those motions had led him to his house in Resembool. He thanked the officers before heading inside.

"Ed, is that you?" called Winry from the kitchen. Ed suddenly perked up at the sound of his wife's voice.

"Yeah, where're Al and Mei?" Ed responded as Winry came into the hall, drying her hands.

"Emergency at work, apparently…What the hell happened to your hand? !" Ed cursed inwardly as he realized that his hand was still bleeding and he had let Winry see it.

"It's nothing!" Winry glared at him, but otherwise said nothing, opting for grabbing his hand and dragging him into the living room.

"Nothing doesn't make your hand bleed. We'll have to wrap it," Winry explained as she delicately held Ed's hand. Her soft fingers played across his skin and he was disappointed when she left to go get a bandage. "I know you got into a fight, but you need to realize that your body is important."

"Right…why do I get the feeling you'd rather have all my body parts replaced with automail?" She slapped him, sending him reeling.

"That's not funny, Ed! I care about you; all of you!" she snapped at him, tears in her eyes. "I don't want to have to make another piece of automail for you because you're so reckless."  
>"I didn't have a choice," he grumbled.<p>

"Why? What was the fight about this time? Did someone call you short? Or was Detective Mustang just antagonizing you again?" Winry huffed out, folding her arms. "You really need to learn to control your temp-"

"I caught the guy who killed your parents, Winry. That's who I was fighting." Ed had stood while he explained this, Winry sitting back on the couch with a soft "oh". Ed growled loudly, ruffling through his hair. "I had him, and I could have finished him. I just couldn't pull the trigger because I didn't want to do that to you. I felt so useless!"

"I'm pregnant."

"Then Commissioner Bradley arrived and suspended me for a week, so who knows what kind of hell I'm going to go through when I get back."

"Ed!" He stopped in his frantic pacing as he turned to face his wife, to whom he'd been all but oblivious during his ranting. "I'm pregnant."

He felt as though his entire world had been flipped over by her words. He gaped at her like a goldfish, no thoughts or words traveling through his lips. Winry looked at him worriedly, twisting her fingers before he finally managed to get a word out. "How?"

"I would hope you'd know how, Ed."

"Then…when?" Her finger twisting increased in speed as she sought to answer him.

"A few weeks ago, when you were still working in Central. I was feeling nauseous every morning so I called grandma and she told me to visit a doctor where they told me I was pregnant." She was smiling as she told him this, though the warm light radiating from her dropped after a moment. "Are-are you angry?"

Ed stood there a moment, the shock of the news permeating every cell of his body. _This_ must have been what Winry had been trying to tell him his second day at East. He raised his eyes to look at his wife, meeting his eyes with hers. A second later, he had scooped her up and kissed her with all the tender passion in the world. "Angry? This is amazing! Sure, we're a little young, but we're going to be parents!"

"You're…happy about this, then?" Winry sounded relieved and Ed pressed his forehead to hers, a smile stretching his face.

"Of course I'm happy. Heck, after this crappy day, you've brought me the most amazing news in the world." Winry laughed loudly.

"Sometimes you can act like such a sap." Ed rapidly grabbed her hand, and pressed his free hand to her stomach.

"Why wouldn't I? It's a kid, Winry. Something that you and I created together. That is nothing short of amazing." Winry smiled again, radiating beauty from every part of her being. All at once, Ed kissed her again, deftly using his hands to remove her apron while her own hands worked on his shirt. Winry's blouse went next, but by that point the two of them felt they were the only people in the world.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: At last I finished this chapter! I know I took a super long time but these last few weeks have been filled with many family issues that have precluded me from writing. Either way, this finishes the fifth arc of the story, finally spelling out something I've been hinting at since Chapter 2. For those of you who have not seen my profile page, essentially I plan to have this story finished by start of summer. It'll be a lot of work to tack on to my job search but I feel confident I can make it happen. So, in the meantime, please drop me a review (constructive criticism is appreciated), tell your friends for more reviews, and Dare to be Silly.<strong>


	15. Chapter 15

**Perhaps what I have liked most about this story is the ability to build the character relationships from near nothing. After all, look at Roy and Ed at the start and compare it to this chapter…you'll notice a difference. Anyhoo, time for Chapter 15! Strap yourselves in!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 15<span>

"So, Edward's been suspended?"

Roy cradled the phone between his ear and shoulder as he glanced into his pathetic fridge. "Yeah, the commissioner himself did it."

"Hmm…" Riza's voice was thoughtful on the other end of the line. Roy, meanwhile, shut the fridge with a snap. How come there was never any food when he actually needed it? "I had heard the commissioner was paying a visit to East. He must have heard about your plan to catch Scar."

"He's certainly a perceptive man."

"Yes, and from what I hear, he actually does his paperwork," Riza jested and Roy took a brief moment to glare at the phone. "Either way, he's quite the dedicated one. Did you know he pops in from time to time just to make sure all cases are progressing nicely here at Central?"

"No, I didn't. Though speaking of Central," Roy shifted his phone to the other side before sternly asking, "do we have any new leads about Hughes or Homunculus?"

"Nothing that I can tell, but I'll keep my eyes peeled." A minute silence passed between them for a moment. "In fact, the Hughes case is all but a ghost around here; the more I look into it, the more I feel like I'm in a nest of vipers that's constricting around me. You and Edward's theory about a network of corrupt cops might not be far off."

"Yeah, well, the problem is finding the head of that viper." A knock on his front door interrupted his musing and his eyes instantly became steely, his tone following with a flirtatious lilt. "Sorry, Elizabeth, but I'm going to have to call you back."

"No problem, Roy. Hope you have a nice day." Riza's sudden cheerful façade indicated the end of the conversation as Roy quickly grabbed his gun and strode to his door. After a quick counting to three, he swung the door wide open.

"Whoa, boss, what's with the piece?" Roy stopped himself and lowered his gun, ushering Havoc inside. Of course, he didn't expect Breda, Armstrong, Feury, and the woman he had just met yesterday (Sheska if he remembered right), to follow behind him.

"Any reason you're at my apartment, Havoc?"

"We brought fried chicken," Havoc answered, holding up a large bag of food. Roy just stared at him blankly. "On a more serious note, we're not stupid you know."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, swiftly swiping the bag and dragging it over to the counter.

"Come on…" Breda groaned exasperatedly. "Your interrogation earlier today all but proved that you were pursuing the Hughes case."

"I don't see how asking a serial killer that question-"

"Sir," Armstrong interjected, "perhaps it is best to include them in the investigation going forward." Mustang frowned at the muscular man, thinking for a moment. He hadn't wanted to involve his men because of the danger that the case was presenting to all of them.

"You realize that this case may have you risking your lives, yes?" Mustang said plainly and each of them gave short and stunted nods. "All right, then, I'll summarize everything I have so far."

"Sweet!" Havoc said, snapping out a cigarette that Roy immediately tossed in the trash. "Aw…that was my last one…I'll have to ask Solaris to get me some more."

Breda simply ignored his partner as he took a seat on the couch, the others following suit, before asking his own question. "How is Scar connected?"

"That requires explanation," Mustang began, pulling the group's meal out of the bag. "It starts, obviously, with Ishval. The psychologist there was killed by a cop working for Homunculus Corporation. Assigned to the case was Isaac McDougal, who started tracking down leads and came too close to uncovering the mole before he disappeared."

"I remember that case," Armstrong said thoughtfully. "Head Detective Raven was assigned to it; one of the few cases he could never solve. It caused quite a stir at the time."

"That was because the body was found at Central and they paid his sister to keep quiet," Mustang countered. "That's who Hughes was visiting the night he was murdered. Hughes realized she was involved with the Tucker cover-up and there were corrupt cops…but I still think there was something more. Fullmetal figured out that all of this tied back to Ishval."

"That's why he had me pull those files!" Sheska blurted out, as though a light bulb had gone on in her head. Mustang nodded at her, still not entirely sure what she was doing here (even though after the day prior, he did trust her). Of course, he reasoned, Feury's close proximity might have indicated his involvement in her presence.

"Fullmetal's reasoning was sound, so we went after Scar hoping to get some answers. All he did was confirm what we knew. Still," Roy took a bite out of the chicken, "we're getting somewhere." Saying no more, he passed dinner onto the others. Breda took it and seemed to consider the story with scrutiny.

"I find it interesting that this whole thing started to unravel because some Ishvalan psychologist was killed…it was pretty sloppy for a cover-up."

"Maybe the person who did the first shooting was an amateur?" Havoc suggested, taking his own chicken with glee. Breda nodded his consent to the theory.

"That would explain why they had to do such an elaborate cover-up that took the lives of at least two cops."

"Not to mention how many other cops might have started second guessing some things and started digging into the cover-ups and corrupt…what?" Feury asked, realizing that all the individuals in the room were staring at him.

"That is brilliant!" Mustang exclaimed. "People don't just blow up police stations on a whim. Any detective would start wondering if there was someone dirty and go look into it. They'd have to take care of them."

"But wouldn't someone notice if a bunch of cops started dying off in droves?" Havoc asked through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

"Then they use a different method to cover it up," Breda suggested. "You know, maybe something random."

"It's possible. If we can cross-reference things on the list of dead cops, then maybe we can root out one or two of the corrupt ones," Mustang pointed out. "Then, maybe we can get some answers. Sheska, do you think you and Rebecca can get me the names of all the murdered cops since the Ishval Bombing?"

"You want their files?" Sheska asked meekly, adjusting her glasses.

"No, that would be too conspicuous. The names should be just fine; and don't tell Fokker. I'm still not sure if he's one of them."

"How do you plan on getting anywhere with just the names, sir?" Armstrong asked with a dazed glance. Mustang responded by tapping the side of his head.

"I'm pretty sure we have a vault of information that is virtually untraceable. I plan to use him to get the rest of the information we need." Mustang ran his fingers through his hair before looking at each of them sternly. "From here on out, we're treading into dangerous waters. Do not speak of this with anyone except for those that you know are working on the case. Likewise, until this case is resolved, you cannot use any police given equipment to contact one another. Understood?"

"Of course, as long as you don't try to protect us anymore, sir," Breda retorted. Mustang smirked, and each of them stood to take their leave, their dinners leaving with them. "Remember, sir, all of us want to see Detective Hughes' killer caught; so, trust in us until then."

"I will." Each of them gave an affirmative nod and began to stroll out of the apartment. Armstrong, however, paused at the door to turn back.

"Are you still planning on including Edward Elric in the investigation?" he asked quietly, and Mustang shrugged in response. "Very well…oh, and my parents are holding a party to find Catherine a husband on Saturday, at our Eastern Estate…if you'd like to come, that is?"

"Of course, Armstrong, but don't expect me to be a candidate." Both of the men gave a hearty chuckle before Armstrong gave words of farewell and departed, closing the door behind him. Mustang sighed soon after, rubbing his eyes as he walked back to the kitchen. "Well, Hughes, hold on a little longer, 'cause we're getting close."

* * *

><p>When Roy awoke the next morning, he was feeling considerably better than he had many mornings prior. Thankfully, there was still some chicken left over from the previous night, so when he left his apartment, he actually felt as though he'd gotten some food. Taking a detour on his way to the station, he quickly stopped in a cell phone store. After all, just last night he had told his men to not use any police given equipment. It was time he took his own advice. Once he had his prepaid phone, Mustang headed into work.<p>

Vorac was nowhere to be seen, so Mustang instead focused in on the paperwork in front of him. With a groan, he realized he had yet to do the paperwork from the Scar incident. Unfortunately, after a few minutes of searching, his quest turned up with only the papers for the property damage that Ed had caused. "Where the hell is it?"

"I don't know what you're looking for," came an amused voice, "but I have a special delivery from Sheska." Roy twisted around from his currently uncomfortable position under his desk, banging his head as he drew up to see a bemused Rebecca Catalina.

"That was fast."

"She has ungodly reading comprehension skills, though I would like to point out that I helped with this." Mustang took the folder she was offering as she sat herself on the edge of his desk. The head detective quickly pulled the piece of paper out to a moderate length of names scrolling down the page. "So…Havoc still with the slut?"

"Solaris? So far as I know…though the woman seems to be a bit of a bitch," Mustang remarked, shoving the folder in his desk, but tucking the piece of paper into his jacket pocket. "Can't say I like her very much."

"Interesting…" Mustang sent Rebecca a not-so-subtle smirk.

"Never said I approved of you either." Rebecca simply stuck her tongue out at him. "Either way, thanks for the info. How's the petition going?"

"On its way," Rebecca quipped before a beeping came from her right palm. "Whoops, Fokker's texting me. Better get going before he gets suspicious. Stay out of too much trouble!" Roy didn't feel the need to bid her farewell as she skipped off. After waiting a moment to see that she wouldn't randomly be coming back, he stood only to see Vorac emerging from the interrogation hallway with Kimblee and Jealot.

"Hey, Vorac, 'fraid I have to step out the rest of the day," he announced, garnering the attention of all three detectives. Vorac ambled the rest of his way over to his desk, sitting his plump frame in his chair, all the while staring at Mustang with his beady eyes.

"Don't we have cases to work?" he asked confusedly. Roy laughed good-naturedly at the question.

"Not as far as I know…just paperwork after that Scar debacle," Roy answered, scratching the stubble on his chin as he did so. "Besides, if a case does come up, just bring it to Breda and Havoc. The team's pretty competent."

"You seem to go out quite often, Mustang," Kimblee observed, his eyes shining wickedly. Mustang's mood soured as he turned to glance at Kimblee.

"Yeah, well, I call it a family emergency," he spat and Kimblee just smirked at him. "My aunt's a big woman and there are a lot of complications with that. Now, if you'll excuse me, I really have to be going." Before the crazed man could incense him any further, Mustang departed. A shudder passed through him as he began driving his car. He _really_ couldn't stand that man, nor did he trust him in any way. Part of Roy's brain was even hoping he was one of the corrupt cops, but the other part told him to not make assumptions.

When at last the detective had traveled an ample distance from the station, he parked his car and pulled out his new phone and list. Dialing in an old number, Roy waited until an almost forgotten voice finally answered.

"Detective Falman, North PD, how can I help you?"

"Glad to see you finally dropped the officer from your name, Vanessa," Mustang teased, a small crash and curse following his statement on the other end.

"Damn, there goes another 100 cenz…" mumbled the man on the other line, before clearly focusing his attentions on his caller. "Detective Mustang, what're you calling my personal cell for?"

"Can't I call an old friend?" The silence on the other end answered his question on its own. "All right, fine, the situation's complicated and I need to use your impressive memory to run some names."

"See…it's never simple with you!" Falman complained on the other end. "And why the hell couldn't you call me when I was still at home?"

"Wait, you're at work? Then that means-" His thought was only confirmed by the harsh voice that soon accosted him through the phone.

"If it isn't Roy Mustang. Been a while, dumbass," the female voice said with hard spite. Roy took a moment to reevaluate himself before responding.

"Armstrong…how wonderful to hear your lovely voice again."

"That's Chief Olivier Armstrong to you," she scoffed at him. "Anyway, what's a miserable pissant like yourself doing, calling up one of my detectives?"

"I need his impeccable memory."

"I rather doubt that," she spat and he recoiled, despite being many miles away from the intimidating woman. Roy had only met the indomitable chief of the Northern Police Department on a few occasions, but like many others he had grown to fear her. Perhaps it was the fact that she was nothing like her brother, Alex, and it threw them completely off-kilter. Granting that Roy often kept himself as stoic as possible so as to not give her an opening, but he still quaked in his boots at the sight of her. She was, after all, known to be as fierce as she was beautiful. "Don't you have your own systems for that?"

"I'm…trying to keep this off the books," he told her delicately.

"And why would you try to do that?" Olivier demanded. Mustang paused a moment, trying to discern how much was wise to slip to the woman. Sure, she was as trustworthy as her brother, but also harbored a steadfast loyalty to her country and the police department. "Speak! Or should I brand you as more of a coward?"

"I'm going after a network of corrupt cops," Mustang relented finally, praying that Armstrong wouldn't turn it against him. "We believe they may have infiltrated the upper echelons of Central."

There was a beat's worth of silence before Olivier began to laugh. "All right, Mustang, you can pick Falman's brain, as long as I get my share of the spoils and are kept in the loop."

"You agreed pretty easily," he commented. "Why?"

"I've suspected Central to be filled with backstabbing fools for some time now," Armstrong quipped proudly. "Besides, if I help you with this, it opens one more seat to the top. Go ahead, Falman, do your best job. I'm going to check on Head Detective Miles and Buccaneer." Just as suddenly as she had cut in, she had also left the conversation.

"Sometimes, I think she's too scary to be a woman," Falman rejoined tremulously. "Now, what were these names you needed me to run?"

"Right, I have a list of cops that were murdered since the Ishval Bombings," Mustang explained, his eyes scanning the list eagerly. "What I want to know is just who murdered them, and who investigated those cases after the fact."

"You're sure they were murdered?" Falman questioned and Mustang could hear the reluctance in his voice.

"It's a relatively short list, so it _is_ clearly the ones we _know_ were murdered," he answered back. "So, let's begin. Detective Belsio."

"Killed by the Slicer Brothers in Central. The case was taken on by a Detective Storch who caught the Slicer Brothers with Forensics Specialist Edward Elric's help after they had claimed ten-"

"Okay…moving on. Captain Yakovlev, narcotics at Central."

"Killed in a drug bust…so, not quite murder, sir."

"Kill the snarking, Falman," Mustang shot back. "Who was tasked on the drug bust?"

"Detective Raven, he served under Yakovlev and was promoted to homicide post-incident." Mustang tapped his chin thoughtfully. So far as he knew, Raven was already involved in two cases dealing with murdered cops. "Sir?"

"Er…right…Detective Soyeuz," Mustang responded and Falman proceeded to rattle off more facts.

"Killed by a female thief named Psiren. The case was investigated by a Detective LaCroix who was later transferred to the Aquroya station under East, where he continued his investigation. He was later killed by Psiren as well. The case went into investigation limbo and Psiren remains uncaught to this day."

Mustang finished marking down the information on his sheet and looked to the last name on the list. "All right, Gamelan."

"Previous chief at Central PD, directly under Commissioner Bradley." Here, Falman paused an instant before going on. "Murdered by Barry the Chopper as his first known victim. The case was investigated by Detective Raven." Raven, again. His name seemed to be appearing on a lot of these files. Mustang breathed in before asking his final question.

"Maes Hughes." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and it appeared as though Falman wasn't going to give him the answer. "Just tell me who was in charge of investigating it at Central."

"It began with the now Chief Storch before it was transferred to…Raven." Mustang slumped back in his car seat. Raven, Raven, Raven…everything was coming up with the older man's name. His head was spinning at the thought of it. Was it possible that the corrupt cop who had set in motion the chain of events that got Hughes killed was the very same man that had taught him so much? It couldn't be possible. For one thing, Raven wasn't even at Ishval at the time. But most of all, the man was far too kindly to be a killer.

_Still,_ a small voice said in the back of the head detective's mind, _the pieces fit. His sudden transfer to Central. Not to mention he must have been hard-up for money with his wife's hospital bills._ Roy vehemently decried the notion to himself as he politely replied to Falman's nagging on the other end. "Thanks for the help, Falman. I'll make sure to keep Armstrong in the loop."

He terminated the call before the man could get a word in edgewise. Mustang's eyes began to scan the list. His suspicions against Raven were murky at best, particularly since he had never exhibited any tendencies to be a killer. But there was something else in the pattern of these killings that seemed to sit on the edge of his brain. Some hidden notion that would potentially bust this case wide open.

And he knew just the man who could see that hidden pattern.

Quickly tossing his phone and the paper into his passenger seat, Roy started the car and headed for the edge of East City. As he crossed to the highway, clouds began to gather overhead and he gunned his car faster, hoping to escape the imminent rainstorm. It was just as the first drops began to fall that he arrived at his destination, knocking on the front door insistently.

"Oh!" came the squeak from the doorway and Roy surveyed the form of Winry Elric. There was a small period of nothing but the rain pattering the outside before Winry ran forward and hugged the head detective. "Thank you."

"For what?" he couldn't help but ask. Winry withdrew before answering him.

"Ed told me everything. You stopped him…so, thank you." Roy could only nod his welcome as he followed her inside. He barely got inside when the one he was looking for appeared.

"What are you doing here, Mustang?" Ed asked in surprise.

"I believe we have a case to work. Even if we got Scar's confession, we did do it for a purpose." A near indistinguishable look passed over Ed's face at the mention of Scar's confession, but Roy figured he could ask him about it later.

"I'm suspended, or did you forget?"

"So?" Roy countered. "I have to keep this case off the books, anyway." The head detective stood there defiantly as Ed appeared to scrutinize him. Eventually, the younger man sighed in defeat.

"Fine!" he conceded, heading towards the living room. "But my brother's part of the investigation. We could use a mind like his."

Of course, Roy never expected his brother to actually be sitting in the living room greeting him. "Don't you have work?"

"No," Al responded casually. "I'm going for my doctorate, so for the most part my research is finalized. I just have to finish preparing for my presentation. Besides, Mei's with her brother for the day so I'm not in a position to do much of anything."

"I see…" Roy commented with a frown, seating himself on a chair in the room. Ed flicked the TV off before joining his brother on the couch.

"What do we have?" Ed asked impatiently, causing Roy to pull out his list of names.

"I had your friend Sheska run a list of names to get all the cops that had been murdered since the Ishval bombings. Written next to those names are the names of the people who killed them and the detectives who investigated said cases." Ed examined the list thoughtfully. "Any thoughts?"

"Yeah…your handwriting sucks."

"I was in my car while I wrote it!" the older man snapped at him.

"All insults aside," Al intruded, his tone clearly chiding his older brother, "there's a definite patter to these detective names. I mean, Detective Raven was mentioned at least three times."

"I noticed that as well," Roy remarked, "but I knew Raven personally and…I don't know; I just find it hard to believe that he could be involved."

"That's not what I'm concerned about," Ed commented. "Look at the killers on most of these. They're all serial killers. I would know. I helped put away the Slicer Brothers and you and me took care of the Chopper."

"Is that really enough to see it as a pattern, though?" Ed placed the list down and stared at Roy seriously.

"It is when you realize that Belsio and Gamelan were the first known victims of each serial killer's murderous rampage," Ed noted with a flash of his eyes. "Think about it. If you were a serial killer, wouldn't it just be easier to knock off some random person first. I mean, if you kill off a cop, you'll have the whole force on your ass before you could blink."

Roy stroked his chin pensively. Ed had a point; no serial killer in their right mind (not that any of them _were_ in their right mind) would kill a cop. Especially well known cops. "Then how do we explain Yakovlev's death?"

"Pretty convenient for him to die during a violent drug bust. Covers up whatever evidence of who might've really done it," Al pointed out.

"That just implicates Raven again…which brings us back to the serial killer angle?" Before they could expound on it any further, Winry poked her head in the room.

"You guys want any lunch? I'm making sandwiches," she asked but Ed waved her off.

"Maybe in a bit…as long as they're normal sandwiches," Ed answered, earning a glare from his wife.

"Well, excuse me for having pregnancy cravings." With that, Winry stormed from the room. Roy stared at Ed a moment, his eyebrow quirked, but refrained from saying anything. Clearing his throat, he returned to the topic at hand.

"So, serial killers…if their first marks are cops, then that could potentially mean…"

"…they're getting paid to do it," Ed observed. Roy's sight narrowed in on him as the young man straightened up to explain. "Okay, hear me out. It stands to reason that McDougal and Hughes weren't the only ones that looked into the Ishval Bombings and corrupt cops. They get too close to the mark, so, in order to remain discrete, the chief corrupt cop hires a serial killer, or soon to be one. They kill off the guy who knows too much and then go on to kill a bunch of other people to cover up the intended mark. Then they catch the killer and no one's any the wiser. It wouldn't be hard to pay them either, especially if they're intrinsically connected to Homunculus Corp. It's easy, really."

Roy ran his mind over Ed's theory. The pieces fit to the theory, and everything made sense. The only downside he saw to the theory was that in order for it to work as Ed had described, the person who was ordering the killers to do these heinous crimes had to be extremely high up in the police system. That was good…at least in the sense that it narrowed down the pool of suspects. Of course, the bad news was that it also meant there would be a high difficulty in catching said individual.

Then it came back to him: Barry the Chopper's words in the interrogation room. _I would've done 'em both if I could. Guess I should've been more careful in the East area._ Barry knew something. He had hinted at it the whole time. _If I could…_

"Of course…" Roy breathed out, causing the brothers Elric to glance at him. "Barry was hired to kill Cain Leto."

"What?" Ed spat incredulously. Roy tapped his knee, fitting together the pieces in his mind before he spoke.

"Think about it. Barry is hired to kill Chief Gamelan of Central, and then he goes on a murderous rampage. Suddenly, he vanishes," Roy explained and Ed stared at him in rapt attention. "A few months later, he pops up again to murder Cain Leto. Why? Why would he stop his killings and then resurface just to kill this one guy? The answer fits." At Roy's proclamation, Al abruptly stood and dashed out of the room.

"If that's the case…and with all the pieces fitting, I'm inclined to think that it is…why then? What did Cain Leto find out? How did they know anyway? He wasn't exactly a cop," Ed asked furiously.

"I think…I might have the answer, brother," came Al's meek voice and both of the men turned to look at him entering the room with a laptop. "Cain Leto was prosecuting a thief who was part of an underground market. Apparently, it was all the news in Liore. He made a deal with the guy and got some information, including about a legendary thief called Psiren."

"The one who murdered Soyeuz and LaCroix?" Mustang asked, intrigued.

"The very same," Al told him solemnly. "He did a little digging of his own. He must have come to the same conclusion that we did, but there was still no way for them know that he knew the truth. At least, until the day before his death."

Al then turned the laptop to face them, displaying the headline, and Roy's breath caught itself violently.

COMMISSIONER BRADLEY VISITS LETO FAMILY ON BLACK MARKET CASE

"No…you're not implying…no…" Mustang couldn't fathom the implication. Just like the thought that Raven was a corrupt cop, Mustang found the disturbing evidence before him to just be utterly impossible. Ed, however, certainly didn't seem to think so, as he uttered his own thoughts on the matter.

"It makes sense…" Ed responded breathily. Mustang shook his head, almost refusing to accept it. "Mustang, it makes sense!"

"The hell it does, Fullmetal!" he protested loudly. "You're telling me that Commissioner Bradley, head of the entire fucking police department ordered all of these deaths. I can't see it."

"Why not? He's the commissioner, so he'd have access to knowledge on any case that's being worked on. He could easily delegate it to someone to take care of. Al's right; Cain Leto discovered a piece of information that could blow this thing wide open, and he blabbed about it to Bradley. He'd have no reason at the time to suspect that Bradley was at the root of it. It certainly wouldn't seem weird that the commissioner would visit for such a high profile case. A day later, he turns up dead. That's no coincidence!"

"Coincidence or not, Fullmetal, we're talking about taking on one of the biggest people in the country. He's like a freaking god!"

"I don't believe in gods!" Ed countered. "At the very least, not in one who murders. Just think about it Mustang; it's the only way it makes sense. He's the permanent fixture. Captains and chiefs come and go, but for the last twenty years he's stayed at the top. Stop me when I start making sense."

He already was. The facts were coming together as a cohesive string. According to Hawkeye, Bradley checked on the progress of all cases. He would probably keep an eye on those cases that would have a huge influence on his doings. Greed's comment about Bradley forcing crime into the shadows made sense finally. If you were the one hiring killers, then you could easily put them away. Bradley was the main corrupt cop that was part of Homunculus Corp. He was the head of the snake. It made sense!

But Al's words didn't.

"You need to confront him," he suggested and Ed looked at him with wild eyes.

"Are you insane? ! He'd kill us!" Ed protested, but Roy was already turning the cogs in his head.

"You'd be prepared, though. If you confront him, he'd either have to admit it, or he wouldn't and would try to kill you, giving you your proof right there."

"And how in the hell would we get a meeting with him?" Ed shot back.

"Your suspension. He seems to like you, so at least he'd hear you out, right?"

"Al, that's batshit-"

""No…he's right," Roy finally spoke out and Ed's gaze shifted to him. "It's a win-win situation if we're right and we're prepared, and it's the only way to get surefire proof."

"You're just as insane as he is!"

"Maybe I am, but I'm not going to squander the best lead we have." Roy stood and grabbed the list of names from the coffee table. "Call and make an appointment with the commissioner's secretary. Say whatever you have to, but get that appointment for tomorrow."

Even with Ed yelling after, Roy strode purposefully from the house, and into the deluge of rain. It was a dangerous gamble they were going to take confronting Bradley, especially so soon after forming their theory. But he knew they wouldn't get anywhere without first ascertaining the truth of the matter. Whether it was dangerous or not, he needed to do it. He needed to move forward.

First, he needed to visit the East Penitentiary.

The rain was still falling when he got there forty-five minutes later, and his entire being was soaked with both water and determination. The sound of the door clanging open, however, drew his musings away from Bradley and instead onto the crazed man before him.

"Barry the Chopper, it's been a while," Mustang remarked nonchalantly. As Barry sat in the chair in front of him, Mustang observed how remarkably little he had changed. Other than the trimmed hair and prison jumpsuit, he looked the same as he had two weeks ago.

"Well, if it isn't the detective who put me in here…where's the babe?" Barry asked, his face twisted into a leering smile.

"I'm afraid she couldn't come to our little reunion." Barry sighed dramatically.

"That's a real shame…so, what do you want me for, here?"

"I just need to ask you a few questions, tie up some loose ends. You know, little things." Barry inspected him a moment before leaning back casually.

"Sure. Fire away," he permitted.

"Why did you kill Cain Leto?" Barry tipped back and laughed raucously.

"That's what you wanted to ask? ! I already gave you the answer to that in my confession."

"Were you paid to kill him?"

Barry ceased in his jubilant laughter and leaned forward, his eyes twitching around the room. "If I'm honest with you, what can I get out of it?"

"I can try and get death off the table before your trial," Roy answered truthfully. Barry licked his lips, as if considering the offer was akin to contemplating a morsel of food. After a minute of war waging inside the serial killer's head, he nodded in acceptance.

"Yeah, I was paid to kill Cain Leto, and before you ask, the same goes for that chief in Central." Mustang surveyed him a moment before asking his next question.

"Who hired you?" Barry licked his lips again, but Roy figured there was something salacious behind it that time.

"Hot chick with some succulent curves I would've liked to have sunk my cleaver into if she weren't my employer," Barry elaborated. "Went by the name Lust, though it was probably just a code of some sort."

"Did she say who she worked for?"

"Sure did…Homunculus Corp." Roy's eyes flashed in triumph. Their theory was proving all the more correct now.

"Didn't you ever wonder why they came to you? I mean, you weren't exactly a well-known killer then." Barry gave a jarring cackle that sent shivers down Roy's spine.

"Oh, I wondered about that too. Don't get me wrong, by the time Busty Lusty came to me, I had already done my share of heinous crimes, but I had been methodical enough to not even be suspected. That's when Lust told me that it was that Bradley guy keeping the cops away. That was my…insurance policy, as it were." Barry scratched his chin in remembrance. "Yeah…they told me that as long as I did the jobs they wanted me to, and didn't draw attention to the wrong people, the Commissioner would protect me."

"And if you wanted to sell out?"

"Then they'd send this guy along…leastways, I think he was a guy, named Envy to clean up the mess, if you know what I mean." Mustang knew exactly what he meant. Bradley was quite the chess master. His gambits for keeping out of the spotlight were flawless. Hire the criminals to do the dirty work by ensuring that his position as commissioner would protect them. Then, when they served their purpose, he'd send any cop to bring them down and make it look like he was still doing his job.

"Barry, if by some chance these people, including the commissioner, were put on trial, would you be willing to testify in open court?" Barry said nothing for a moment before smiling widely.

"We'll see if we get there." Roy stood, returning the smile as a smirk.

"Thanks Barry, you've been a great help. I'll try and put in a good word for you." Mustang then told the guard he was done and strode from the room, whipping out his cell phone as he did so. When the person on the other end picked up, he spoke quickly so as to pre-empt her. "Riza, I need a favor."

* * *

><p>"I can't believe you asked your girlfriend for help," Ed complained in a whisper. "I could've handled it."<p>

"Yeah, well, I figured that the situation became all the more important," Roy replied and Ed crossed his arms in a huff.

"Will you two be quiet? You're like school children," Hawkeye snapped at them and Roy steeled himself before the double doors. Barry's confession had all but clinched the necessity of confronting Bradley; a necessity that had been conveyed to both Riza and Ed, and had led them both to Central. Hawkeye pushed the doors open and the three of them entered into the reception area of the commissioner's office. The secretary didn't even look up as she addressed them.

"Head Detective Mustang, Mr. Elric, the commissioner's in his office, but I'm afraid he has a very tight schedule, so please make your meeting short." Neither of them even bothered to respond to her, merely offering a glance to Hawkeye as they entered into the lion's den.

Bradley was sitting in a relaxed state, his pen gliding over what seemed to be the last of a large stack of documents. The focused look on his face almost inspired Roy to run, but he nevertheless stood firmly. At the sound of the door closing, Bradley finished signing his document and looked up to them with kindly eyes. "Detective Mustang, Fullmetal, my secretary tells me you're here to talk about your suspension."

"That's…not exactly true, sir…" Ed gasped out reluctantly and Bradley cocked an eyebrow.

"Then to what do I owe this visit to Central?"

"We know the truth, sir," Roy stated defiantly. As a response, the head detective reasoned that if Bradley's eyebrow went any higher, it would actually disappear into his receding hairline. "We know about the serial killers you've been hiring."

"I've been hiring…serial killers, you say?" Bradley asked hesitantly. Neither of the other two changed the looks on their faces at his question, and after a moment the commissioner laughed loudly. "_Always_ good stories from East. Tell me Mustang, why would I be hiring serial killers?"

"I don't know, sir. I was hoping that you could tell me," Roy responded briskly. "All I know is that you've been using Homunculus Corp to kill off people who are a threat for some unknown purpose."

"That's fascinating," Bradley remarked, a playful smile on his face. "And…what evidence do you have of my alleged hiring of criminals?"

"Deductions and a full confession of Barry the Chopper."

"Another criminal. That seems to be grasping at straws, Mustang," Bradley warned him.

"Either way, it's the truth. The way we see it, we'd confront you with it first in order to save face," Ed countered, and Bradley leaned back to survey him. He took a deep breath before standing silently. For a moment, Mustang thought he would actually turn himself in…but his next words shattered that delusion.

"Do you have any other proof?" The commissioner's voice was calm, but an insidious presence had crept its way into his voice, and it put Roy's hairs on edge.

"No, sir." Bradley nodded discretely before looking at them with sharp eyes that almost made the head detective recoil.

"Very well…Mustang!" he barked, and both of the younger men flinched from the ferocity. "I like you, so I'm going to forgive what many consider to be gross insubordination. Instead, I will leave you with a single fact: nothing in this world matters except proof. Can you _prove_ it, Mustang?"

"We have-"

"Yes, a full confession of a practically convicted criminal; as if that will hold any water in a courtroom against my own testimony. Let us not forget that I have served this country faithfully for over twenty years compared to a man who has murdered countless." Bradley seemed to be spitting fire, and Roy remained rooted to his spot as a result of it. "I'll tell you again: nothing matters in this world but proof. Not the truth. Not lies. Not God. Not the world. If you want your words to mean anything, there needs to be substantial proof behind them.

"So, let me ask you again, Mustang. Can you prove it?"

After Bradley's emphasized rhetoric, Mustang stood un-answering for a moment, his eyes boring into Bradley's before hanging his head and uttering a simple, "No."

"No," Bradley snorted. "You seem to have set up this appointment to deliberately waste my time. Until you have some proof of my alleged crimes, I don't want to hear of this again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very important lunch appointment to be getting to."

And as Bradley furiously left the room, the sight of it couldn't help but give Roy the feeling that they had just made a very big enemy…and an even bigger mistake.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Sorry for the delay but I had family issues, a job interview (which I didn't get…) and of course, this was a huge chapter in both length and importance. For the astute reader, you may have picked up on these facts early on. Yes, I did plan this since Chapter 1. It is NOT something I stuck in to make a story; that would be an insult to you guys. The moment I wrote the first word, I knew Bradley was the Big Bad and that Barry the Chopper was hired by him to kill Cain Leto. I hope you enjoyed that. Chapter 16 should come quicker as we move into a faster phase of the story with much more action. So, please drop me a review as the last few chapters have been sorely lacking. Also, Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	16. Chapter 16

**We now begin the Homunculus Corporation Arc…by all rights, we could call this the beginning of the end…it's kind of like the night before the Promised Day.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 16<span>

If ever there were a man that could be considered pure evil, the two of them would have to suppose that it was Commissioner Bradley. He had easily outplayed them, making them look absolutely foolish in the process. _And I even kept my temper in check this time,_ Ed reasoned. It was a sigh from Mustang next to him that brought Ed back to the gravitas of the whole situation.

"That didn't go as planned," the detective stated bluntly. Ed glared at him sourly.

"Oh, shut it!" he snapped, folding his arms in a huff. "He's guilty. Whether he said it or not, I don't care; he's more guilty than…well, he's just guilty."

"I agree," Roy concurred with a shrug of his shoulders. "The only problem is, I don't think he's going to behave the way we expect him to from here on out. You saw that look on his face."

"You mean the one that was so intense it almost made me shit my pants? Yeah, kinda hard to miss that one, Mustang," Ed grumbled as the head detective scratched the side of his nose.

"I felt it was more like a look of withering condescension." Ed snorted; the two were essentially one and the same. "He thinks we're not even worth wasting his time on. We're so beneath him that there's not a thing we can do to stop him."

"Maybe he's right."

"That's not like you." This time, it was Ed's turn to shrug. "Like the commissioner said, we need to prove it."

"How exactly are we going to do that? !" Ed squeaked incredulously. Roy decided to lead the duo's procession out of the office as he answered.

"Not sure, but we'll start with a meeting of the group…Country should be a good place to have it. Hawkeye!" Hawkeye's eyes fixated on them as Ed came into the foyer. The secretary's desk was empty, but the older detective remained at attention. "You're coming home tonight, right?"

"That's correct, sir," she answered hesitantly.

"Good. We're going to Fullmetal's place."

"My place?" Ed spluttered in protest. "What's wrong with your apartments?"

"They're in the city. Meanwhile, Resembool's far enough away that we wouldn't have to worry about bugs or being overheard. Come on, Fullmetal, it makes sense." Ed grit his teeth in frustration. Not only was the bastard right, but he was probably going to have a hard time with Winry, too. With a sharp exhale of breath, the young forensics specialist abandoned the others as he strode out of the office.

He didn't once stop to look back and see if the others were following him, and only when he was in his car did he allow himself the chance to think about things rationally. Mustang was right in the fact that his house was the safest location for all this secrecy. After all, having shown their hand to Bradley this early only upped the stakes _and_ the danger. The country was as far from danger as one could be.

A glance outside his car window gave him the sight of both Mustang and Hawkeye bidding a temporary farewell to each other. Sighing heavily, Ed rolled down his window and said as quickly as he could, "Be there at six…and bring some extra food."

Considering the conversation done, Ed snapped the window back up and started his car, peeling away from the pair. Once he was out of Central and on his three hour trip back to Resembool, Ed made his call to Winry. Her response was less than enthused.

"Ed, I'm busy at work right now, what do you want?" Winry snapped at him, causing Ed's teeth to clench all the more. Sure, but she wasn't busy enough to not pick up the phone.

"What do you say to taking off early, then?" Ed asked, his voice wavering between seductive and annoyed. He really couldn't decide what to do in this situation.

"If this is some lame attempt to romance me, it's a pathetic failure," she observed and Ed frowned. At this rate he wasn't getting _anything_ done. "Let me guess, we're having more people over tonight."

"Well…" Ed's tapering silence seemed to be all the proof she needed before uttering a sigh.

"I hope you close this stupid thing soon," she complained. "I'd like to start having the house to ourselves again."

"Yeah…I'm sorry."

"Don't explain it to me, and don't apologize," Winry cut him off. "It's not like you're cheating on me, so I should be grateful. I'll head home after my next patient. See you then." The audible click that followed told Ed the conversation was over. Setting his phone to the side, Ed gunned the engine and didn't stop until he had reached his home where Winry was at work again, seemingly making another batch of stew, and Al was nowhere to be found.

"Are Al and Mei on a date or something?" Ed asked, popping into the kitchen. Winry spared him a quick glance as she answered him.

"No. At least, if you don't consider visiting your father a date," Winry told him with a frown. Ed himself repeated the frown. As if reading his mind, Winry quickly followed with, "Oh come on, Ed, give it a rest. Your dad's interested in your life and wants to be part of it, so grow up."

"I will when he does." Winry didn't respond, her silence a chiding remark to his own brand of childishness. Deciding he wasn't going to get anywhere with furthering their banter, Ed left the kitchen and went to the bedroom to change and wash up. Today was simply too long of a day. After a moment of hushed reflection, Ed decided his talents were best used in helping his wife in the kitchen until company arrived. The both of them worked as if in a dance, barely saying a word to one another and by the time the doorbell rang, they had all but mended whatever fences may have been broken over the phone.

"Damn…nice house, squirt," Havoc remarked with a low whistle as he stepped inside.

"Don't call me tiny!" Ed lashed at him, but the older detective remained indifferent, sniffing the air delightedly. The smoker's partner followed him in, clapping the young man on the back.

"Good to see you, Fullmetal, how've you been?" Breda asked, taking a brief moment to take off his blazer. Ed didn't answer, but Breda didn't wait around for one either, continuing on as if the question had never been suggested. "So, what's all this about? The boss called and said we were all meeting at your place tonight, but he wouldn't say why."

"Would it kill the guy to explain things?" Ed snapped, his scowl becoming more apparent. Breda shrugged, following Havoc into the living room. Giving off a sigh, Ed craned his neck for a view of the outside. Thankfully he saw two cars bringing themselves up the driveway. Deciding that his best plan of action was simply to wait, Ed propped himself against the wall and watched as the final four guests made their way up the path.

"Edward Elric! How glorious to see you again!" boomed the imposing form of Armstrong, and Ed gave the man a wave and a weak chuckle. "We are most gracious for the offering of your-"

"Yeah, yeah, just get inside." Armstrong readily complied, a despondent Feury bring up the rear behind him. "Hey, Sheska tells me that you two have really hit it off."

"Really?" the young detective asked with slightly more perk to his voice, causing Ed to laugh. "She say anything else?"

"Sure, just invite me to the wedding." Ed's comment seemed to only agitate Feury further.

"Fullmetal," Mustang acknowledged with a nod. The younger man grunted in response, shutting the door as soon as both the head detective and his ex-partner had cleared the threshold. Moments later, the entire group had settled into Ed's spacious living room.

"So, what's this all about, boss?" Havoc asked, innocuously taking a cigarette out. Ed's timely glare forced him to smile sheepishly and put the pack away as Mustang answered them.

"We've found Hughes' killer…or, at least, the man who ordered Hughes' death," Mustang stated plainly. A suppressed murmur flitted around the group until Armstrong spoke.

"If that's so, have you arrested him?" Armstrong asked vehemently, to which the head detective shook his head. "But…if you've found him-"

"It's Commissioner Bradley." That shut everyone up, giving Ed the time to survey everyone in the room. Armstrong's eyes were nearly bulging out of their sockets and Detective Feury looked as white as a sheet. Meanwhile, the other two detectives were exchanging glances. Breda recovered first.

"You're sure?"

"Fullmetal and I confronted him, and he all but challenged me to prove it," Mustang's eyes snapped to each one of them with a white hot gaze. "I intend to."

For the second time that evening, Havoc gave a low whistle. "You're talking about proving that Commissioner Bradley, our boss, is a murderer-no, a cop killer. Not exactly easy."

"If you want to back out now, Havoc, just give me the word," the head detective taunted.

"Hell no! Hughes was a great guy who deserves justice. I don't care if it's Bradley or the fucking president. I'm in!" Havoc responded triumphantly.

"If Hav's in, I'm certainly in no position to say I won't help."

"That's true…" Feury agreed. Only Armstrong remained silent, stroking his chin in thought. All eyes in the room turned toward him.

"We're going to a dangerous battleground, sir. Are you sure you can prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he is guilty?" It was Mustang's turn to stroke his own chin.

"Well, to be honest, we may not have to go about it in that way," Mustang mused. "Ever since I talked with him, I've been thinking…all we really need to do is prove that he's affiliated with Homunculus Corp."

"What good will that do, sir?" Feury asked with a small stammer.

"Prove that Bradley's part of Homunculus Corp and then prove all the dirty things Homunculus Corp has done," Ed answered. "Any jury in the world can draw their own conclusion."

"Problem with that is the fact that to everyone else, Homunculus Corporation is perfectly legitimate." Breda observed. Mustang sat forward, folding his hands as a grin stretched across his face.

"But we know they're not. In fact, we know from our old friend Barry the Chopper that there are, or rather _were_, seven operatives quite aware of the dirty back dealings," Mustang explained. Hawkeye shot him an inquisitive look.

"How do you figure that, sir?"

"Deduction. We met Greed, who worked for them previously. Then there's the one who hired Barry: Lust."

"Seven deadly sins, huh?" Armstrong remarked. "So, that leaves five."

"One of them is probably Bradley, so we only need to find the other four."

"Talk about grasping at straws," Ed breathed out bemusedly. Mustang whirled around on him.

"You got a better idea, Elric?"

"Of course. Go after the stuff that's easy to find…like Bradley's financials." Ed's comment sent the room into thought, contemplating the young man's suggestion. "Think about it. A company as large as Homunculus with such a big secret; Bradley would want to keep those finances close to the vest, like, say, at his manor."

"Yeah, but I can't get a subpoena for that stuff. I don't have enough cause."

"I never said to get it legally…" Mustang's gaze narrowed on Ed, and the young man could see the situation playing itself out in the older man's head.

"I think Fullmetal has a plan…" Breda interjected. "Think about it: if we take those financials, Bradley will more than likely suspect you, so he'll send someone after you. Then you've not only got your proof on Bradley, but your dirt on Homunculus Corporation, too."

"Sounds pretty risky to me…" Feury said, causing both Ed and Mustang to frown.

"At this point, risky is the only option left to us, even if I don't like it," Mustang shot back. "The only problem is how we obtain those financials…I guess we could ask Greed."

"Greed's probably out of the country by now, and we both know he wouldn't go anywhere near Homunculus," Ed reminded the head detective. "Well, I guess there's nothing for it. I'll have to sneak in, then."

"Are you sure, Edward?" Hawkeye asked incredulously. "You're talking about risking your career."

"I've been risking my life since the start of this ting, so don't tell me I should be regretting it now!" Ed leaned back, his arms folded across his chest. "Besides, out of all of us here, I'm the only one who could really do it, considering that it'd be even more dangerous for you guys to do it."

"Well, you shouldn't do it alone. I'll help you out," Feury declared loudly and his companions stared at him with surprise. "Bradley's mansion is bound to have top-of-the-line security, but I can hack it. I can guide Ed in and give him support…and, it's about time I man up in this investigation."

"Well spoken…" Mustang approved with a small smile. "The only question becomes when. Sneaking in when the Bradley family is home could make things really ugly."

"How about tomorrow night, then?" Armstrong suggested nonchalantly. Hawkeye arched an eyebrow at him.

"That's a little fast."

"Not quite. Remember, my parents are holding a party over here in the east. I can very easily invite the Bradley family."

"That would seem suspicious to me, given what happened earlier today," Hawkeye commented with pursed lips. "Bradley would know you're tied into this."

"Is your big sister going to be there, Armstrong?" Mustang asked and Ed felt the familiar chill run down his spine. Armstrong nodded and Mustang started tapping his knee rapidly. "Tell her everything, and have her invite the Bradleys. It lifts suspicions from me, given that everyone knows that she hates me. It also fulfills my side of our agreement."

"Sounds like a plan," Feury affirmed and Ed snorted. How did he get himself into these things? Breda and Havoc both looked slightly unsettled at the idea and swiftness of the plan but Ed had always been one to strike while the iron was hot. Sure, he was grateful that each member of the team was worried about their safety, Hawkeye's calculating look only proved it, but at this point there were few options left available.

"Okay everybody, tomorrow night, Fullmetal and Feury will be in Central, breaking into Bradley's house. Meanwhile, the rest of us will be at Armstrong's party, trying our best to keep Bradley and any potential men of his occupied," Mustang announced, standing proudly. "Let's move quickly, but carefully; we only have one shot at this."

"Right!" Ed simply nodded in agreement. At that moment, Winry stuck her head into the room.

"Well, if you guys are all done discussing stuff, I've got dinner waiting in the kitchen." her words were met with outcries of joy and a flurry of movement. Ed turned back to look at Mustang whose eyes conveyed all that needed to be said.

Ed only gave him a confident smirk in return.

X X X

"Is that really all you're going to need to get in?" Feury asked in astonishment. Ed quirked an eyebrow at his companion, his eye briefly scanning the small amount of equipment below him.

"Should be enough," Ed explained. Feury looked at him with skepticism. "It wasn't like I could go to House Scaling Incorporated. I only had this morning to gather the things I needed before we were off to Central."

"Then are you sure you'll be able to do it?" Ed tossed him a scathing look and Feury held up his hands in defense. "Sorry I asked."

"The better question is whether _you_ have everything we need." Feury cleared his throat and motioned to the laptop in front of him. Ed focused in on it as Feury clicked some keys hurriedly.

"At first, you'd think a top-notch security system like Bradley's would be hard to hack into, but it's so isolated that I don't have to go through nearly as many firewalls. Granted, I don't want to let them know I'm in the system, so I won't do anything until it's time to. That should maximize your window."

"What exactly is my window?" Another click and a composite of images appeared before them on the screen.

"There are four cameras, one on each side of the house, and security guards stationed at the north and south entrances," Feury said, pointing out each thing as he went. "Each camera rotates, catching the middle of the wall twice per minute. However, the corners, as you can see, are often picked up by the other camera when one is at the center."

"So I have roughly thirty seconds to get over the wall and across the lawn to the side of the building?"

"Yeah, can you do it?"

"Not a problem," Ed informed him confidently. "What about getting in?"

"A little more complicated." Feury quickly brought up a map of the Bradley manor. "There's a drawing room on the third story, south side, which according to notes has a faulty window, making it easy to break. Bradley never got it repaired…I'd assume because it was on the south side. In any case, that's still too far off from the mark: Bradley's home office, second floor, west wing."

"Then how the hell am I going to get in there?" Ed was puzzled but Feury made a calming gesture as he moved on with his explanation.

"The bedroom on the west wing has a skylight which won't trip any security sensors, and is always left open during summer unless there's rain. You can slip in, head to the stairs on the northern side, at the end of the hall, and into Bradley's office, second door down."

"Guess we should be grateful it's not in East City…what if the door's locked?"

"That's what I'm here for. A lot of the doors are electronically locked, but I can open them…you'll probably have less time though." Feury exhaled here and turned to the younger man. "Think you can do it now?"

"Still positive, but we stay connected the entire time in case something goes wrong." Feury gave him a grunt and a nod to indicate his understanding. "You sure know a lot about this stuff."

"Yeah…it started out as a hobby; you know, hacking into things with my friends on the weekends. But I always wanted to do some good with it." Feury pushed his glasses up before he went on. "I joined the academy at eighteen and went from there. Apparently, I might've been the youngest detective since Head Detective Mustang, but I had some family issues."

Ed sat there in silence after Feury's statements. The small hum of the computers provided and ambient sound that drew the forensics specialist to his own thoughts. Part of him was starting to doubt that he could really pull this off, but backing out now would have been foolish. "Hey, is Mustang a good boss?"

"The best." He could hear the admiration in the young man's voice. "He seems like he's only out for his own goals, but he always takes care of us. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Ed answered him awkwardly. His eyes flitted to the camera images on the screen, showing the darkening grounds of Bradley's estate. His hand twitched impatiently; waiting was always hard for him.

"Hey, so is it true that you graduated from South University at seventeen?"

"Yeah…" he breathed out, blowing his bangs out slightly. "Sheska's talked about me, I guess."

"A-a little…" he confessed with a pink flush to his cheeks. "She says that she's good friends with your wife."

"Yeah, Winry and Sheska are good friends." Ed snorted as he remembered when he and Winry had gotten married. "I had already met Sheska when the two of us were getting married, so she ended up being one of Winry's bridesmaids. She was ecstatic."

"That sounds like her…" Feury admitted abashedly. Ed laughed at the man's discomfort.

"Yep…Winry even told me she was near tears when she called yesterday to tell her she was pregnant."

"Oh, congratulations." Ed gave him a great grin at the thought of being a father when a beeping interrupted them. "Looks like the Bradleys just arrived at the party. Ready to go?"

Ed placed his earpiece in and connected it to Feury. "Bring it on."

Feury said nothing, only attaching his headset and pushing the door to the van open. Ed took a deep breath and bounded from the vehicle, the older detective shutting the door behind him. After quickly scanning the street, Ed dashed in the direction of the estate, more specifically the western side. It wasn't long before he reached the imposing wall before him.

"Climbing over the wall now." Feury issued a confirmation as Ed went for his belt to grab the grappling hook he had once made as a teen. _Thank you, Teacher_, he thought. _You may have been hell, but you sure taught me how to scale buildings…as I ran from you._

Thinking no more on the subject, Ed tossed the hook up and latched on to the top of the wall. He briefly tugged on the rope to make sure it was secure and planted a foot on the wall, beginning his climb. It took only a minute before he had reached the top, having found enough crevices to get him there. Ed quickly took the grappling hook and peeked his head over, seeing the bushes below. "Feury, how's the camera?"

"Hitting the southern corner." Wasting not a second, Ed detached his grappling hook and pitched it into the bushes. Only a few seconds later did Feury's voice come through his earpiece again. "Half a minute."

Ed hurriedly pulled himself over the wall and dropped below, combat rolling through the bushes below and into a running position. As if moving on instinct, Ed pumped his legs forward, quickly dashing for the brick lined western wall. Within twenty seconds he had made it to the wall and pressed himself against it as the camera continued to rove over the grounds. Now came the hard part. He quickly scanned the side of the building and noticed a drain pipe that stretched to the top, right next to some window sills.

_Lucky me_, Ed mused sardonically as he sidled along the side of the house to avoid being caught. When he reached the pipe, he planted his foot on the wall and grasped it. With a heave he began climbing the pipe. His heart was beating faster than normal and he feared that every squeak and groan of the pipe, no matter how miniscule, would attract all kinds of unwanted attention.

His hand clasped the edge of a second floor windowsill to pull him up when a cracking sound reached his ears. Ed immediately withdrew his hand as a small piece of the windowsill crumbled away, leaving him clutching desperately to the pipe. Steadying himself, Ed raised his left hand and dug into one of the small crevices between the bricks. The action made his fingers cry out in pain, but he persisted, pulling himself up the length of pipe. _Mustang definitely owes me for this._

There were no more mishaps along the way, and Ed soon reached the roof of the west wing without incident. A quick glance showed him the open sky light. At least that had gone right. Ed treaded lightly across the roof and lowered himself as soon as he reached the skylight. A quick inspection of the room below revealed no one inside and Ed lowered his feet before dropping into the room. "I'm in."

"All right, remember, head for the northern stairs." Ed observed the furnishings in the room before making his way over to the door and into the hallway. The hallway was silent and empty, save for a clock ticking away down below. Ed breathed a little before he crouched low and scurried over to the very apparent stairs. Like the hallway, the stairway beyond was empty, but for some reason, Ed didn't feel relief at this. Nonetheless, he bounded down them as swiftly and silently as possible until emerging on the second floor. When he reached the second door, he was entirely unsurprised to find it locked.

"We're locked out."

"No worries," came Feury's voice. "I'm going to unlock all the doors in the house, at least then they won't head straight for the office."

"How much time can you guarantee me?" Ed asked in a hushed whisper.

"Five, maybe ten minutes."

"It's enough." Feury said no more, and less than a minute later there was a series of clicks down the hallway. Quickly taking his chance, Ed ducked into the office. Upon first glance, Ed noted how similar it looked to Bradley's office outside of the house. Passing over the various objects in the room, Ed's eyes settled on the bookcase in the corner. Bradley was not a stupid man, and certainly would not hide his secret files in such an obvious place as a file cabinet. So, Ed quickly went to the bookcase and began scanning the list of titles to the best of his ability in the darkened room. Of course, nothing stood out as being remarkably different from the others. A small sense of dread settled in his stomach, and suddenly he heard an audible click.

"Did you really think we'd be stupid enough to hide important documents in my father's office, Edward Elric?" came the smug voice from behind him. Ed stopped breathing for a moment as he registered that the person behind him actually knew who he was. He turned around, the lights flickering on with his turn. "I thought you were smarter than that, Mister Fullmetal."

"Selim Bradley…" Ed growled at the shorter figure before him. Selim smiled wickedly at him, holding the gun in his hand steadily. "You're part of Homunculus Corp? !"

"It _is_ my father's business."

"You're only…what? Seventeen?" he snapped incredulously, not even caring about his volume.

"You were only seventeen when you joined the force," Selim stated with a shrug. "Besides, I know more about the company than any of those other idiots."

"You mean Lust and the others?"

"So, you know about Lust? I guess I shouldn't be surprised; you did make it past security." Ed eyed the gun in Selim's hand with caution as the boy chuckled. "I am Pride, or rather, that's my code name."

"How cute…" Ed breathed out sarcastically, causing Selim to scowl. "Well, can't say we ever planned for you to be our stumbling block."

"My father figured that you'd try something after you and Mustang came to visit him yesterday. Although, I am surprised you put something together so soon."

"So there's nothing here then? A wasted trip?"

"For you, maybe. For us, it only confirms the threat that the two of you present." Not even wavering, Selim dug into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone, calling a number on speed dial. Ed's eyes flitted around the room, looking for an escape route, but Selim's steady gun prevented him from taking action. "Lust, you can kill Mustang. We don't need him anymore."

"Wow, you guys are a walking cliché," Ed taunted as Selim flipped his phone shut. "Killing people who know too much is really predictable."

"We have to protect our interests, and both you and Mustang have learned way too much. Heck, I've never had to reveal my identity in the field, but I didn't want you snooping around places you shouldn't."

"Must be pretty convenient to have a child on their team," Ed snorted. "I bet there's all kinds of info that you can get and no one would be any the wiser."

"Isn't that why Mustang has _you_ on his team?"

"Shut up! I'm not a child, and I'm sure as hell not going to be caught by one!" Selim's eyes narrowed dangerously towards Ed and he snarled.

"I've changed my mind," he said calmly. "I don't think I will kill you. Instead, I'll just shoot at your limbs and make you tell me everything you know." Selim lowered the gun's angle and Ed saw his chance. In the second it took the young boy to fire the gun, Ed dropped onto his butt and threw his left foot up. The bullet managed to hit its mark on Ed's foot and he swung his right foot into Selim's knees, causing the young boy to topple over.

Ed was up in a second and dashing out of the door. He heard footsteps quickly approaching and he swore loudly. Selim was behind him and the other security guards were closing in. This had been a doomed plan from the start. "Feury, please tell me you heard some of that."

"Most of it…" Feury responded hurriedly and Ed could tell he was agitated. The footsteps were coming closer and he quickly decided to take a gamble and head south.

"Tell Mustang everything!"

"But, Edward-"

"_Everything!_" he screamed. Caution be damned at this point; the whole house already knew he was here. A loud crack sounded behind him and a furtive glance showed that Selim had recovered and was shooting at him. _Good thing the brat's a bad shot_. "Look, at least tell him that Lust's gunning for him. He's got to be careful."

Ed rounded a corner as he heard more of Feury's babbled protests. Suddenly, he realized that he had turned into the south wing of the house and knew exactly where he needed to go. Another shot fired close to his head and Ed gunned it up the nearby stairs and straight for the double doors. Loud footsteps sounded from the other end of the wing as Ed bolted inside and slammed the doors shut, his back against them.

"Ed, are you listening?"

"I'm in a bit of a situation!" Ed warned, sprinting to a plush chair and dragging it in front of the door. He needed time; time he didn't have. "Just tell Mustang the situation and get the hell out of here!" Ed didn't wait for a response, simply taking out the earpiece and stomping it into tiny pieces.

A bang on the door sounded behind him, but the chair held firm. Disregarding his own pursuers, Ed ran to the windows and kicked at them with his automail leg, causing them to fall to the grounds below. A quick survey of the grounds showed no guards at the southern entrance. He was in luck. Ed quickly tossed his earpiece blow and climbed on the interior window ledge. With a large push of his hands, the curtain rod came crashing down and Ed set to work. Ignoring the bangs on the other side, Ed rapidly removed the curtains from the rod and took the rope that moved them.

As fast as he could, Ed tied the rope around his waist and set the curtain rod so that the walls acted as a stopper for it. Ed stepped outside as the chair in the room began to move. Sparing one last glance at the inside, he quickly began rappelling down the side of the house. He was one floor down when he felt the rope around his waist loosen and suddenly become undone. A brief panic hit him before he plummeted, hitting the grass violently.

A wheeze escaped him as he struggled to get up, feeling a pain in his right arm. As he stood, he saw that the source of his pain was a window shard sticking out. With a yelp, he removed it and set off for the south entrance, his feet carrying him as fast as they could.

Thirty feet…he hoped that Feury had already left. He didn't want him implicated in this too. Twenty feet…how had this turned out so wrong? How could they have ever predicted Selim to be involved? Ten feet…he was almost there. Five feet…a sharp jolt assaulted his side and Ed staggered to the ground, convulsing wildly.

A quick look confirmed that three security guards were approaching him, tasers in their hands. Selim was bringing up the rear, but the electricity surging through his body prevented Ed from focusing on him as he dismissed the guards. Ed's body started to give, and soon after his body lost consciousness.

_Damn you, Selim Bradley, you smug little bastard._

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I am terribly sorry for taking so long. To put it simply, life and writer's block hit me hard, so no surprises if the first part of this chapter is a little crappy. I tried to make it better but…well, I'd rather hear your opinions. Just remember, there are two sides to every story and we'll be seeing Roy's side to these events very soon. I'm starting on it soon, and I'm excited to write it. I hope I didn't lose any loyal reviewers, so please review as always.<strong>

**On a related note, I received many anonymous reviews. I don't mind anonymous reviews but I prefer ones with signed in accounts, they're easier to reply and don't take up space.**

**Guest (Chapter 1): I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Actually, I've never watched NCIS and actually have based this story off of other shows like Monk, The Mentalist, Castle, etc.**

**hiya: Glad you're enjoying and I hope you also enjoy these other developments.**

**Madison (Chapter 4): Thank you very much for your feedback, particularly on Barry and the realism. On your note about Royai. This story contains Royai elements but is NOT a story about Royai. I have the characters labeled as Roy and Ed as it is their perspectives and their story, but Roy and Riza very much have feelings for one another in this story. I hope this clears things up and that you continue your readership.**

**Well, I think that's all…so, remember, review and Dare to Be Silly.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I believe that when a writer takes a long time to write a chapter it either turns out really good, really bad, or really fluffy. I hope this one's good but I'll leave you to make the judgment. So let me know.**

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><p><span>Chapter 17<span>

"Are you sure this is the best thing to do, Roy?" The head detective swiveled his eyes toward his companion. "Sending Edward and Feury into such a dangerous situation isn't exactly the best way to go about this."

"Don't worry about it, Riza," Roy answered her, fixing his tie as he did so. "Besides, Fullmetal used me for bait once. I consider this a form of payback."

"Payback? I never thought you so petty," Riza mocked. "You're quite a bad liar, sir." Roy looked at his date incredulously.

"I thought I was a pretty good one, actually." Riza laughed and moved over to him, fiddling with his tie as he continued onward. "Judging from Bradley's reaction, I was pretty sure I had fooled him and Homunculus Corp about how much progress I made into Hughes' murder."

"Then, I suppose I just know your tells," she informed him, patting his now fixed tie and moving over to her dresser. "Either way, I think it's too dangerous…for the both of you."

"Is that why you're bringing a gun?" he asked, catching sight of the weapon she was affixing to her thigh. Riza gave him a pointed look before answering.

"I like guns." Didn't _he_ know it? "Besides, you're not bringing one."

"Maybe that's because my lovely partner promised to watch my back," he told her smugly. She didn't smile at his jest.

"In this case, I'm a little more worried about your front."

"That's why we made back-up plans…which does involve me getting a gun, I'll remind you." Riza sniffed indifferently. "Let me guess: you don't approve of that either."

"I am withholding my judgments until everything is said and done…Though, why you split up all of our different plans without telling _everybody_ is beyond me." Roy slipped his suit coat on and started for the door as he answered her.

"Simple. If one part of the plan goes awry, the other parts won't be jeopardized." All Riza could do was shake her head noncommittally. Roy sighed as he stepped through the portal of the door to Riza's bedroom and angled himself toward the front door. It was true, he hadn't informed Ed or Feury that he had made arrangements with his other men to get more information, just in case their part didn't go as planned. Hawkeye's disapproval was enough to prove that, but he knew that if there were to be a small modicum of success he was going to have to appear non-threatening and keep it under wraps until the time came. A small noise behind him indicated that Riza had finished putting on her earrings and was clomping along behind him in her high heels. "Okay, I get it."

"Get what, sir?" Riza questioned as Roy opened the door for her to pass through.

"I know you're not happy with the plan, but both Ed and Feury volunteered. They'll be fine, and if anything goes wrong, we'll be the first to know."

"It's fine," said Riza. "I just hope you have a good reason when Ms. Winry calls you, asking why her husband isn't home tonight."

"Really? I thought she'd be okay with it. You know, part of the job."

"When he's suspended…"

"All right, already," Roy said exasperatedly as he opened his passenger's door to let Riza inside. "There's no need to scold me, detective." And he slammed her door shut.

"Someone has to keep you in line, sir," she told him once he had entered the car himself. Roy snuck a glance at her person. We're his mind not so focused on the important and upcoming events of the night, he might have marveled at how beautiful she looked tonight. The usually stiff detective could certainly pull off a form-fitting black dress better than most women. Of course, what really caught his attention was the beaded purse she was rummaging through. Seeing the contents of that purse made him all the more certain that his ex-partner, part-time lover was more than capable of keeping him in line if she needed to. _Of course she's going to bring a second gun…why wouldn't she?_

Chuckling to himself as Riza snapped her bag shut, he started the car without any further preamble. Then, without so much as a glance back at Riza's apartment, he tore away from the building and toward the Armstrong Estate.

The Armstrong family was one of the richest, and oldest, families not only in the country of Amestris itself, but also in the confines of Amestrian history. Rumor had it that the first Armstrong family patriarch, Thomas Armstrong, had been a general for the loyalists during the bloody Amestrian Civil War nearly four hundred years ago. He had led those loyalists to numerous victories and was the man who secured the country's future. Soon after the war concluded, he returned to one of his battlefields and there discovered a massive pile of gold. Thus it was what the Armstrong family name was carried to even the farthest corners of the country.

From then on, that family name was synonymous with wealth, power, and all the things that came in between. If the Armstrongs wanted a law passed, it would be passed. Which meant that if you were a lobbyist, you wouldn't waste your time schmoozing up to senators; you'd go straight to the Armstrongs and hope they were sympathetic to your cause. It helped that just about every generation of the family was in the military. It was only when the military seemed to be superfluous that the Armstrongs changed their family legacy. Alex's father, Phillip Gargantos Armstrong, had been the first patriarch to instead join the police force: a legacy that was then followed by Alex and his older sister, Olivier. To that point, it made their family even more important, influential, and best of all, innocuous. And that led Roy to why he had chosen to do the plan tonight.

For the most part, the Armstrongs resided on a massive estate near the heart of Central City. The place was positively littered with servants, fine furniture, and one of the most boasted about gardens in the country. In a few words, the Armstrong Estate was the gem of the upper crust of society. However, as was the usual case when the previous generations had _not_ squandered the family's legacy, one estate was not enough to tout the grandness of the Armstrong's wealth. So it was that the Armstrong family had numerous estates, one for each part of the country, which they inhabited on a whim, whenever it took their fancy to do so.

It just so happened that it was their Eastern Estate that they had chosen to inhabit this summer. According to Alex, it was because Catherine was now the age of twenty and the family was desperately hoping to find her a husband. In either case, it worked well for Roy and his plan. If Bradley and his family were invited to an Armstrong soiree, they would have no choice but to attend. To not do so would be spitting in the face of the country's most powerful family. The fact that said party was to be held at their Eastern Estate simply meant that the Bradley family would be nowhere near their own estate when Ed was breaking in.

The Armstrong Eastern Estate was, as its name suggested, located in the confines of East City. Since East City was made up mostly of business moguls and industrial facilities, it meant that their manor was amidst all that filth and grime (though admittedly of two different kinds). In order to offset this, the Eastern Estate was a thing of beauty, stretching almost five hundred square acres. Surrounding it were various industrial parks that had been bought by the self-same family. They were abandoned now, but their deteriorating visage served only to enhance the beauteous one of the Armstrong Estate. It was here that both Roy and Riza arrived in the early hours of the evening.

Already the place seemed to be in the swing of things. Droves of upper class people were pouring inside the halls of the manor that could put any house in East City to shame. Roy pulled up next to a valet who offered to take his car. Roy obliged the man, taking the valet ticket, and hooking his arm with Riza, proceeded to the entrance, where a gruff looking security guard was patting down guests. A small, fleeting panic rose inside of Roy, but his face refused to betray his impulse. Riza tensed slightly next to him as they drew closer. Getting her guns past security was going to be tricky.

This, however, was resolved not even a moment later. "Oh, Head Detective Mustang! Detective Hawkeye! How wonderful that the both of you could make it!"

"Looks like there's our ticket in," muttered Roy to his companion. She gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head as Alex Louis Armstrong approached them.

"No problems getting here, I expect?" he boomed toward them, causing many a head to turn in their direction. Neither had the opportunity to answer before Armstrong spoke again. "Oh, let's not stand on ceremony. Come with me."

The two of them walked with the hulking detective in front of them. The security guard moved as if he were going to check them, but Alex held up a hand. As if it were a prearranged signal to say "They're with me," the security guard stepped aside, nodding silently at Alex. Roy flashed him a smile as the three of them entered.

Instantly, Roy's sight darted around the room, looking for possible signs of danger. The entrance hall of the manor was packed with guests discarding their coats with the various servants milling around. As neither of them had coats, however, Armstrong led them through the entrance hall to the sweeping ballroom, where even more guests were enjoying the spread placed before them. The ballroom itself was huge, with gleaming floors and pillars that dotted the side of it, giving the room an elegant feel. The ceiling was arched, all of its supports stretching from the side walls into a single point at the very top. From that point hung a chandelier that gave off enough light to illuminate the entire room profusely. The room was also lined with windows that looked out onto the backyard filled with topiary and fountains.

Roy caught sight of Breda in his scan. Breda seemed to not notice his own boss as he chatted quite amicably with both Catherine and her mother; but at one point, his head turned a fraction of an inch to the side before nodding. Roy acted like he didn't see it, but was glad to know that at least one of his men was in place. Now where was Havoc? Without him-

"Good to see you again, dumbass," said a biting voice and the head detective wrenched himself away from his surveying. "Although I'd be lying if I said I meant it."

"Ah, Olivier, I knew you'd eventually not think of me as a dumbass," Roy responded with cheek. Olivier just snorted, folding her arms across herself. "You clean up nicely if I do say so myself, Olivier."

"That's Chief Armstrong to you, you little pissant," she snapped. "Still whiling away your days as Head Detective, are you?"

"Not as glamorous a job as chief, likely, but a necessary one all the same." Olivier simply cocked an eyebrow, tossing her blonde tresses over her right shoulder to show her porcelain shoulder.

"So I gather," Olivier drawled, "Alex tells me you have a plan in motion for tonight. He asked me to invite the Bradleys?"

Roy took a quick look around before answering her, making sure that no one was listening in; he saw Riza doing the same. Then he quickly said, "We think Bradley is the one behind the corrupt cops. We have an operation tonight to try and prove it."

"And I suspect it's something perfectly legal?" He didn't miss the sarcastic tone. "You couldn't confide this in me before now, could you?"

"Things have been moving rather quickly," he said. "We had to act fast before our window of opportunity closed."

"I'll bet," she scoffed out. "And where's Elric? Last I heard, he's working with you. Or are the rumors around the water cooler losing their touch?"

"He's been helping us," Roy confessed, "but right now he has some personal issues to take care of. His wife's pregnant."

"If by 'personal issues', you mean that he's infiltrating the Bradley residence as we speak, that I suppose I have no choice but to believe you. Either way, Winry's a good woman…certainly kept Fullmetal in line. Give them my congratulations. I trust you won't bungle so simple a task."

Roy placed his hand over his heart in mocked hurt. "Come now, Olivier, surely you can put more faith in me than that." Olivier didn't really hear him.

"Bradley…" she snarled out. "What is he planning?"

"I'm more interested in catching him out before he can plan anything." Olivier finally turned back to him with a hard look on her face.

"Well, I'll trust you to tell me whatever you learn," she snapped at him.

"Of course, if I have the time that is." She scowled back at him. "Don't scowl now; it might ruin your beautiful features. Then I may be the only one who wishes to dance with you."

"I wouldn't be sure if your date would allow it." She finally acknowledged Riza by turning to her. "Good to see you, Hawkeye…and I mean it too."

Riza tore her own attention away from watching the room to give a simple, "And you as well." Olivier seemed to think that meant the conversation was finished as she spun around, her black dress sashaying with her.

"Come, Alex," she barked, "We have guests to entertain!" When she was gone, Riza turned to look at Roy.

"Any reason you didn't tell her the full plan?"

"No need for her to know," he answered with a smug smile. "Oh, look, Havoc's finally here…with that viper on his arm." Riza laughed gaily.

"You're starting to sound like Rebecca," she chuckled out. "What do you have against the woman anyway?"

"Mostly it's the fact that she practically has Havoc wrapped around her finger." Riza didn't respond as the two of them were fast approaching the subjects of their conversation.

"Heya, boss!" Havoc called out jovially. "Almost thought we wouldn't make it. Solaris can be quite distracting when she wants to be."

"Now, now, Jean, don't go telling them all about our little escapades," Solaris chided sultrily. Solaris ran her fingers through her hair as she looked around the hall. "I think I'll go get us some refreshments, Jean. Wait here, will you?" Havoc wasn't exactly given the time to answer as she pulled him forward by his tie and kissed him fiercely. When she stopped, Havoc looked completely punch-drunk and could only ogle her as she sauntered away.

"Isn't she great?" he sighed out.

"Yeah, 'grate' is one word I'd use to describe her," Roy growled out. "What took you so long to get here? I almost thought you weren't coming."

"Well, sorry," Havoc grumbled. "Some of us have these things called relationships."

"Some of us also can jeopardize an entire operation!"

"Oh, keep your pants on, Mustang. The Bradleys only just got here," Havoc informed him.

"What? They're here? !"

"Yeah, they were right behind us." Roy wasn't even listening anymore. He snapped his gaze over to Breda, who quickly got the message.

"Next time, tell me the important information first." Havoc was about to retort angrily when Solaris reappeared and the couple took their leave. "Maybe _we_ should get refreshments," Roy said after a moment of thought. Riza, however, squeezed his arm.

"I wouldn't. The Bradleys are here." Sure enough, as Roy glanced toward the entrance he saw both Commissioner Bradley and his wife enter the ballroom. The reaction was almost magnetic. Bradley's head swiftly turned toward the waiting couple and he nudged his wife, the two of them strolling over to greet them.

"Mustang, what a surprise to see you here!" he clapped out. "And with the lovely Detective Hawkeye on your arm, no less. I hope we haven't been breaking any anti-fraternization rules, although I hear your friend over at Internal Affairs is working to see that remedied."

"She is quite the determined one, sir," Riza said politely. "And how have you been?"

"Oh, you know, same old, same old," Bradley answered genially. "Running the entire department isn't quite what it was when I was in my forties."

"I've always said you should have retired early, dear," Mrs. Bradley said concernedly. "I don't know why you insist on taking on one challenge after another…it's foolish." The commissioner laughed loudly.

"You know why, dear. I can't leave the position in the hands of some upstart politician. You know that's what'll probably happen if I drop out now." Mrs. Bradley only continued to look at him with concern. "Oh, enough of this talk of politics, it's all quite stuffy. Dear, would you mind getting me some appetizers, especially those tiny shrimp I like so much?"

"Of course, I'll be right back." Mrs. Bradley flashed them all a quick smile before walking away to get her husband's request.

Bradley continued looking jovial for a moment before his face suddenly hardened. "So, Mustang, I hope you're not still obsessed with this idea that I'm the killer you've been looking for the last two years."

"Can I say that I haven't ruled it out yet, sir?" Mustang answered and Bradley frowned, causing the lines on his forehead to deepen their creases. "After all, no suspect should be above suspicion."

"Of course not," Bradley responded. "You have every right to investigate me as long as I remain a suspect in your mind. I would just hope you'd find the evidence to exonerate me soon."

"I guess you could say we're working on it," Mustang said.

"That's good to hear. Wouldn't want to arrest the wrong man, especially on the basis of a criminal's confession. Certainly wouldn't look good if we did that!" Neither Roy nor Riza said anything. "Where's Fullmetal, by the way? I would have thought he'd be here, considering how you two have seemed joined at the hip lately."

"He's home," Mustang told him nonchalantly. "He just found out that his wife's pregnant, so he's spending the evening with her."

"That's wonderful to hear. I suppose I'll just have to be one in a long line of people offering my congratulations," Bradley said kindly, although Mustang suspected it was just a farce. "Well, either way, I'm glad to know he's doing well. We wouldn't want anything to happen to him with a child on the way."

_He knows…_came the panicked thought. He all but confirmed it. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren't. Mustang simply screwed his face into a smile before saying, "I'd certainly hope not." It was at this moment that Mrs. Bradley chose to reappear.

"Oh, thank you, dear," the commissioner said as he took his plate. "I really do love these tiny shrimp…never now just how they'll surprise you, but you can devour them all the same. Well, have a good evening, Mustang, Hawkeye." With that veiled threat hanging in the air, both Bradley and his wife strode away.

"I knew this was a bad idea…" Hawkeye whispered subtly, and at this point, Mustang was inclined to agree, but knew it was too late to back out now. Whether Bradley truly knew that they were up to something or not was, at this moment, inconsequential. In fact, no matter what happened, they all had to move on with their part of the plan. Roy tousled his hair and resolved to think no more on the "ifs" of their operation. Suddenly he was grasped from behind.

"Roy Mustang! Been a while, hasn't it?" came a gruff, yet kindly voice. Roy broke free of his would-be captor's grasp and turned to see the tanned and bearded visage of Detective Raven.

"Head Detective Raven, sir!" Mustang hastily held out his hand, which Raven clasped tightly.

"It's Captain Raven now, of Homicide. Storch gave me the word yesterday," Raven said excitedly. "I start Monday. Detective Hawkeye, how marvelous to see you as well!"

"Hello, sir," Hawkeye greeted him curtly. Raven threw back his head and laughed loudly.

"Still stuck with this stick in the mud, eh? Ah, well, I guess that like likes like."

"What are you doing here, sir?" Mustang asked and Raven responded by scratching his beard.

"You know how it is, having to hobnob with these socialites. Armstrong's well respected, and given my new position, I'd be a fool and a half to not pay the old goat a visit," Raven explained with a gleaming smile. Suddenly, an unwanted thought entered into Mustang's head. All the evidence in their investigation thus far pointed to Raven having been the dirty cop at East. While Mustang had no solid evidence linking him, he still thought it prudent to zip his lips regarding his investigation. "Speaking of animals, how's that old fox Grumman?"

"As sprightly as ever, sir," Mustang answered and Raven gazed at him curiously.

"No doubt. Even when I was head detective, I knew that the stories out of East always turned a few heads."

"Yes, the commissioner has said so himself." Raven acknowledged this with a nod.

"Lots of stories these days. Especially about you, Roy," Raven told them, shaking his head as if disappointed. "There are many rumors about your activities as of late. I'd be sorry to believe even half of them."

"Well, we have our fair share of rumors, too." Raven's eyebrows arched, as if to ask just what kind of rumors he heard. "You know, stupid things like the Ishvalan Bomber is connected to a cop killer, or that Grumman's dolls are actually spies from Drachma…or that Commissioner Bradley is the head of Homunculus Corporation."

Raven laughed loudly again. "Bradley, the head of a corporation? That's quite droll, Mustang." But Roy could see the new agitation to his movements and the sheen of sweat on his forehead. Was Raven really tipping his hand so early? "You never were very good at making jokes."

"Just rumors, sir," Mustang said calmly. "How's your wife?"

"B-better," Raven replied shakily, and the head detective could see that he had gotten to the older man. "Anyway…I wanted to see if the rumors were true myself. Word has it you reopened the Hughes case."

"Reopened? I wasn't aware it had been closed."

"Oh…er, no…it never was," Raven stammered out. "No one regrets that more than I, I assure you."

"You worked the case after Detective Storch…I'm sorry, _Chief_ Storch, didn't you?"

"After six months!" Raven said more confidently. "Cases go cold after that long."

"He was a fellow police officer," Roy said heatedly.

"If you have any complaints, I would take it up with Storch," defended Raven. "I tried my best with what I had."

"I'm sure you did, sir," Roy assured him airily. He could tell that his former partner and mentor was beginning to panic. "Can I ask one thing, _Captain_? Why were you working the case in Narcotics? For that matter, why did Storch promote you to captain of Homicide? I thought you worked in Narcotics longer than Homicide."

"H-he saw my skills and promoted me," Raven snapped out, dodging the detective's first question. "It's not that surprising. I was Head Detective once, you know…"

"Yeah, I just never could figure out why they transferred you so readily to Central, even with your wife's failing health." Raven didn't have an immediate retort for that and his smile faltered for an instant. Part of Roy was crushed…but the other was soaring with hope. After all this time, he had found the cop that had been instrumental in bringing about not only Hughes' death, but the death of many other cops and Winry's parents as well. He hadn't wanted to believe it, but seeing Raven now confirmed it. All he had to do now was smoke him out and force his old mentor to admit it. Before he could say another word, though, his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Excuse me."

The words he saw on his screen were not the ones he wanted.

_Ed captured by S.B. Sent person named Lust to kill you right now!_

Mustang could only suppose that S.B. meant Selim Bradley and he cursed himself. He would have never suspected the commissioner's son to be a part of this. Now, his name was on a hit list, too. A second text from Feury suddenly appeared.

_GET OUT! ! !_

Mustang didn't need telling twice. "Excuse me, sir, but a problem seems to have come up at the station and I need to get going. We should meet for drinks sometime."

"Of course, Mustang," cried Raven, regaining his jovial manner. "I'm staying in East City until tomorrow evening at the East Grand Hotel. You know, just checking up on things." Roy just nodded at him and once more excused himself.

"Checking up on me, no doubt," he muttered under his breath before quickly sending a single message to Breda and Havoc: _Begin Phase 2_. "Ed's captured."

"Told you…" Riza breathed to him, but he ignored her.

There had always been the possibility that Ed's part of the plan would go awry. There were too many variables contributing towards its success: number of guards, security system effectiveness, and of course, whether or not the documents would be there themselves. So, Roy had to take alternative measures to ensure this whole operation wasn't a waste. Thankfully for him, their enemy behaved exactly the way he hoped they would and were now sending someone after him. Roy quickly took Riza's arm once again and the two of them wheeled toward the front entrance.

As they stepped into the cool night air, a valet quickly approached them. Not even hesitating in his step, Roy pulled out his valet ticket and a small wad of cash. The valet reached for it and Mustang leaned in to whisper, "Check on my car and come to tell me that it didn't start. Understand?" The valet nodded and scampered off. The two remained there, waiting for the valet to return. Both of them were on high alert, Riza scanning for any signs of danger. Less than two minutes later, the valet reappeared.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said breathlessly, "it appears there's a problem with your vehicle. It won't start. Should I call a cab for you?"

Roy quickly put on his best show of bravado and said, "Ugh, this is an emergency and my car chooses _now_ to break down! It was a newer model, too." Riza grasped his arm comfortingly.

"It's all right, Roy. We'll just catch the bus; it's cheaper. Thank you," she indicated to the valet and both she and Roy left the Armstrong Estate, turning onto the abandoned road. "I think they bought it."

"Good. Now, let's keep our eyes open," he instructed and they continued walking, arm-in-arm. They turned another corner near one of the abandoned industrial parks and kept going until Riza squeezed his arm.

"I've got someone on our tail," whispered Riza. Roy grunted his acknowledgement.

"You know what to do." Without any indication of having heard him, Riza gasped dramatically. "What's wrong?"

"I left something important in the car!" she moaned out and Roy sighed. "I'm just going to go back and get it. Wait up for me." She gave him a light peck on the cheek and doubled back. Roy shrugged his shoulders and continued his stroll. It wasn't long before he noticed the same tail that Riza had mentioned. In the dark, it was hard to discern the features of his supposed assassin, but he could tell it was a woman. He measured his paces and saw the chained entrance to the industrial park approaching. He knew that once he started running, she would give pursuit.

_Just a little further_, he coaxed in his mind. When he was finally within a stone's throw of the entrance, he drastically increased his pace to a run. He sharply turned and in one fluid motion, leapt over the chain and tore into the park. Roy flew past the mounds of unused materials and storage containers, turning around one of them for a hiding place. There was barely a chance to stop before he heard a familiar voice call to him.

"Stop right there, Detective Mustang! Hands up! Turn around!" Mustang obliged the woman and turned around to come face to face with…

"Solaris." It had been a statement said with much venom. "Or should I call you Lust?"

Solaris…no, Lust, laughed mirthlessly, the gun in her hand wobbling slightly. "You've caused us quite a bit of trouble, detective. Why couldn't you just lay the Hughes case to rest?"

"Were you the one that killed him?" questioned Mustang.

"I was not, I'm sorry to say," Lust announced with a wicked smile. "My only job was to find out just how much you knew, not that Jean told me anything." Roy would have to thank Havoc for his discretion later.

"So, Solaris was an alias, just like Lust?" Lust nodded her head in confirmation. "I'll have to screen Havoc's girlfriends more thoroughly from now on."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible. You won't be doing much of anything from now on." She cocked the gun she was holding and smiled wider. "It's such a shame, too. You were such a good looking man."

"I wouldn't be too sure if I were you." For the briefest moment, confusion crossed over Lust's face.

"It'll take more than empty threats to bring me to my-"

_BANG!_

Lust recoiled instantly, the fired shot having just missed her hand. Roy took the momentary lapse of attention and took off running, darting around another corner. Well, at least Hawkeye had managed to get into position. A brief look ahead told him that Havoc was too. He only said one word with which Mustang complied, "Duck!"

Mustang sunk to his knees and slid along the dirt ground. A round of shots was fired from Havoc's gun, but the lack of any other sound indicated that he had failed to hit his target. Without pausing for breath, the head detective sprung back up and took the gun that Havoc threw to him. He whipped around and started retreating backward with the blonde haired detective.

"Breda's in place?" he asked, keeping one eye trained on the space in front of him, the other on Havoc.

"Yeah, everything's set," answered Havoc.

"Then let's hurry." Mustang turned around and pelted down the corridor of containers. A bullet struck the container next to him and Mustang flinched. Havoc threw his gaze backward and stopped. "Keep moving."

"That's Solaris!" Havoc breathed in shock.

"Yeah, your girlfriend's a homicidal maniac. Now dump her and let's move!" Before he could get the man to move, however, another shot was fired and Havoc screamed. The shot had grazed his left thigh. "Damn it, Havoc! Hawkeye, keep her occupied!"

The next shot that was fired proved that she had heard him. Mustang stooped low and hoisted Havoc around his shoulders as the injured man muttered, "Man, I have the worst luck with women."

"It's just a graze! Man up and move it!" Havoc finally seemed to pull it together and helped Mustang move out of the corridor and into an open area that led out of the park. A white van was blocking the exit, and the two moved towards it. More shots were fired in the distance as the two blew past an oil drum and came to rest near the van, turning to face where they had just come from. Moments later, Lust appeared, but both men had their guns aimed at her.

"Really, Jean, a gun?" she simpered.

"You used me," he said with gritted teeth. Mustang could tell the pain of keeping upright was getting to him.

"Of course I used you!" Lust screeched out. "What do you think this body is for? Besides, what woman would want you? You're hardly good looking and your brains are nothing special either."

"Shut up!"

"Did that hurt you?" Lust asked him, taking pleasure in the pain she was causing him. "I never mentioned I could be quite callous."

"I said shut up, you cold bitch!" Havoc yelled, trying to steady his hands.

"Well," she drawled, lazily pointing her gun at him, "I think it's safe to say that we're over."

"Damn it…" Havoc grunted and Mustang saw his legs starting to give out.

"Next time, Havoc, don't bring your personal problems to work," chastised Mustang. "For now, though, I'm ending this."

Lust barely had a chance to blink before Roy fired his gun at the oil drum behind her. It only took a second as Lust turned to look that Mustang grabbed Havoc and threw them both to the ground. The small explosion ripped through the area and Lust was thrown forward, landing on the ground in a heaving heap. Mustang sprang up and kicked the gun from her hands, turning her over.

"Who killed Maes Hughes? ! Tell me!" he screamed at her. She seemed to understand what he was shouting, but merely began laughing. Mustang cocked his gun and aimed it at her head. "Tell me who killed him or so help me, I _will_ blow your brains out!"

"You won't shoot me," she challenged him. "You don't have the guts."

"I have the guts."

"Either way, you need me for your information," chuckled Lust. "You can't kill me." Mustang glanced at her defiant face, and in that moment he made a split decision.

"Try me."

And he fired.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Yes, after three months, I have returned. This chapter eluded me for a very long time, but now I'm back in the swing of things. In fact, I've been so looking forward to the next two chapters, they'll probably come rather quickly. Anyway, I've left you with another cliffhanger, so you'll have to read on to see where the story goes. Nothing much else to say other than I hope I haven't lost my reviewership. On that note, please give a nice big heap of reviews and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	18. Chapter 18

**I wrote this chapter in two days…pretty impressive, hope the quality's the same. Oh, who cares? Time for Chapter 18!**

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><p><span>Chapter 18<span>

A clock chimed throughout the sitting room, emitting a booming, almost ominous sound, indicative of the dangerous situation Ed now found himself in. A quick flick of his eyes to the enormous grandfather clock told him it was just after two o'clock in the morning. He gave a near inaudible grunt to convey his displeasure with how slow time seemed to be moving. After all, it had only been roughly an hour ago that he had regained consciousness, and remembered the events that had transpired here at the manor.

Ed scowled, his gaze moving off the clock and onto the teenaged boy in front of him. Selim Bradley lazily stared at him over the top of the magazine he wasn't even reading. The older man rubbed his chest in displeasure. It had _not_ been comfortable to be tasered like that and then dragged in like a sack of potatoes; those security guard had not been kind. Either way, Ed wasn't exactly sure what he was still doing on the Bradley Estate. Surely, they would have called the cops by now. The fact that he'd been here for hours and no members of law enforcement had arrived was disconcerting, to say the least.

Trying to distract his mind from those unpleasant thoughts, Ed took to surveying the room with interest. It was most certainly well-decorated, although judging by the memorabilia adorning the walls, it had more of the commissioner's touch than that of his wife. For spread all across the room were numerous pieces of war artifacts, no doubt having been from the Amestrian Civil War era. There were racks of old pistols (Ed hoped they were unloaded); a rusted bayonet hanging over the door; an oil painting of a major battle; an old and frayed flag of the Amestrian military; and a sword sitting in a glass case, propped in a stand, polished and sharp as though it was used recently.

"Your father's a civil war buff, huh?" croaked Ed, though it elicited no response from Selim. Ed folded his arms and went back to staring at the boy. Nary a word had passed between them since he awoke, other than the younger Bradley telling him to stay there and shut up. He figured it was wise to do so…he didn't exactly want another taser to the chest. A movement on the other couch showed Selim putting down his magazine and staring back at Ed. "So, why'd you do it?"

"What're you talking about?" Selim said forcefully. Ed didn't flinch.

"Homunculus Corp," he stated calmly. "Why would you, as a teenager, get yourself involved with them?"

"Shouldn't a son be loyal to his father?" It was like he was making an observation that was elementary to all but the brain-dead.

"We're not puppets who do blindly what our fathers ask. You still have to think for yourself." For a moment, Selim said nothing, only continuing to stare at Ed.

"I forget that you have a father in high places, too," he eventually remarked and Ed couldn't suppress his snort.

"Yeah, and I'd no sooner follow him or my brother into academia than I would cut off my right arm."

"I can't help it if you choose to not be loyal to your father."

"_Your_ father's a murderer!" Ed snapped loudly and Selim surveyed him with mild curiosity.

"From a certain point of view," he retorted coldly. "I look at my father as a noble man who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty to see a job done. The good he's done for this country far exceeds whatever crimes he may have committed."

"So you just hand wave your father's crimes because you want to believe the best of him?" Selim shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn't care what Ed thought of him. "You're twisted, Selim. Condoning murder because the scales are balanced…I though you wanted to be a policeman."

"Oh, I do," Selim confessed gleefully, "just probably not for the reasons you had believed."

"I don't know…you seem like a pretty loyal lapdog to your father."

"What? You think my actions are motivated solely by loyalty?" Selim chuckled and Ed felt himself getting uncomfortable again. "I'm in it for the money, too."

"That makes it so much better," Ed deadpanned.

"Isn't that all anyone wants: to make sure their future is secure? I've grown use to living the high life, and if I continue my father's legacy I can do that, even if I have to smash a few heads along the way. You and Roy Mustang just keep getting in the way."

"Then why haven't you killed me yet? You certainly tried to earlier."

"A momentary lapse in judgment, nothing more," Selim conceded. "You got me angry, so I shot at you. I realize that had I killed you, too many questions would be asked. No doubt my father will say the same." Ed jolted. _That_ was the reason he was being kept here. Commissioner Bradley was going to have a chat with him, and judging by the way Selim looked at his watch and stood up, it was going to be soon.

Selim strode to the door leading from the room and exited, leaving Ed alone with his rather unpleasant thoughts. The only reason he was still alive was because the murder of a forensics specialist on the commissioner's residence would raise more than a few red flags. The only reason he hadn't been handed over to the cops was because Bradley wouldn't want any one to take a closer look at why he had broken in. And the only reason he was still here was because the commissioner would want to know why. This was not good.

"My father's home," Selim stated with no emotion. Ed hadn't even noticed the little bastard come back into the room. He sat back down and the two waited until they heard footsteps. Moments later the door opened and a gasp was heard.

"Selim, honey, why didn't you tell me you were inviting friends over?" Mrs. Bradley said kindly and Ed refrained from making any comment.

"I'm sorry mother, I know I should have told you," Selim said innocently.

"Oh, it's all right, dear," the commissioner said as he strode into the room. "Selim has to act like a teenager now and again. I'll sort him out tomorrow. Why don't the both of you go up to bed? I'll join you in a moment."

Mrs. Bradley looked torn but eventually beckoned Selim forward and the two left the room. Even when they had moved out of earshot, neither of the remaining occupants of the room said anything. Bradley strode across the room to his encased sword and ran his hands along the glass casing. Ed didn't dare to say anything, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest. At long last, Bradley moved to the side of the glass and turned to face him. "Well, we have quite the situation here, don't we, Fullmetal?"

"Sir…" Ed acknowledged morosely.

"You see, I was told by Detective Mustang that you were home with your pregnant wife, yet I find you here. Oh, congratulations by the way," he added as an afterthought. His sentence hung in midair a moment. "Truthfully, we both know that Mustang lied to protect the fact that you were breaking into my estate. A fruitless effort, really. I highly doubt you'd find any evidence of my illicit activities here."

"You don't deny it?" Ed was confused. Up to this point, Bradley had been resolutely refusing to admit he was, in any way, involved with Homunculus Corp. Now he was offering it up like a person would their name.

"Why should I? You're not going to breathe a word to anybody. After all, I hold your job and your life in my hand," Bradley threatened. "Although, I do have to give my admiration for your plan. You and Mustang really threw it together in quite a short time, I was almost thrown off."

"So Mustang's dead, then?" He couldn't keep the note of fear out of his voice. Bradley chuckled in amusement.

"No idea, though I'd certainly hope not," he admitted, bending down to unlock the glass before him. "That was a call that Selim made. He's a good boy but he's still learning. I wouldn't want Roy Mustang dead any more than I would my wife. Even though I know that the two of you will hunt me to the ends of the earth, the both of you are a credit to the department. It'd be a shame to kill you when I didn't have to."

"You're letting me go?" Ed asked skeptically as Bradley reached into the case and pulled out the sword.

"Of course, I'm letting you go. You're not worth the paperwork and problems if I don't let you go." Ed considered his statement a moment as the commissioner walked around Ed and pulled something out with a clatter. "I'll let you leave in the morning; my driver will drop you at the police station.'

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Why wouldn't you believe me? To any one else, you're just a guest in my house, admiring my extensive collection." Bradley was now in Ed's view again. Ed watched him precariously as he tossed an apple into the air, and faster than Ed could blink, split the apple in two with the sword. Only a second later he had caught both halves and began eating one. He caught Ed's eye and sat prominently on the couch. "That sword was a gift from my grandfather. He was the one who got me into swordplay, fencing and all that. I train with it every day, but I keep it in a glass case for security reasons.

"Now, Fullmetal," he said, leaning forward, his tone steely, "I am letting you go, but not without warning. If you attempt anything like this stunt again; if I get even a whiff that you're going to take your knowledge of my acts to anyone other than your alliance with Mustang, then I will send my best man inside the East PD and Homunculus Corp to first track you down and kill you, and then your loved ones. Understand?"

All Ed could do was nod in the face of the threat. The threat was so overwhelming that the only thing Ed could do was stare, unseeing and unhearing as Bradley told him the details of his departure, locking the frightening sword away as he did so. Soon after, Bradley retired and Ed's mind began shutting down. It wasn't until he was being shaken awake by the Bradleys' driver that he even regained notice of his surroundings. Even then, in his waking moments, he was still trying to push his mind past the commissioner's threat. By the time he had moved past it, the driver was pulling up in front of the East City Police Station. Ed only thought to thank him and get out, only to run straight into Detective Breda.

"There you are, big guy!" he called cheerfully, though Ed could hear the tinge of exasperation. "The boss was worried about you."

"Yeah, well, I've been worried myself. So Mustang's okay?" Ed asked the older man. Breda snorted before giving his answer.

"Oh, yeah, he's fine," Breda spat out. "Feury got a message to us right on time."

"Then what happened?" Ed was now following Breda back down the station steps he had just ascended. "Is Feury okay?"

"Yeah, he's working on tracking down Lust right now." Lust? Hadn't that been the woman that Selim had ordered to kill Mustang? What exactly had happened last night since he was held captive at the Bradleys'? "I guess you want to know what happened."

"Would be helpful," Ed suggested as Breda strode over to his car.

"Get in, I'll explain on the way," he instructed. Ed didn't even bother asking where they were going. "Okay, so Mustang and Hawkeye leave the party to make sure Lust springs our trap; don't look at me that way. The plan works like a charm, only problem is, Lust turns out to be Havoc's girlfriend Solaris. Wouldn't have been a problem until Havoc got shot."

"He got shot? !" Ed yelled out in surprise. Breda frowned at him but continued on with his story.

"Yeah, he got shot in the leg. So, the boss and Havoc make a run for it, corner Lust and pin her down. That would have been the end of it, but Havoc was distracted and Mustang with him. The cocky bitch took her chance and fled. We've been on cleanup ever since."

"That's why Feury's tracking her down then?"

"Pretty much," Breda sighed out. "We've been running everything. Traffic cams, cell phones traces, facial recognition, but nothing's popped yet. Who knows what she's up to…we're on pretty high alert right now."

"What about Detective Havoc?" Ed asked concernedly.

"We had to take him to the hospital," the detective explained. "Sure, it was only the leg but he still needed medical attention, so the boss went with him. That's where we're headed now."

"So he'll be okay?"

"Sure. Doctor says he'll have to wait a day or two before he's discharged, but he'll be fine. Meanwhile, we've got Hawkeye sitting on the East Grand Hotel. Captain Raven's staying there and since Mustang is pretty sure he's our dirty cop, we want eyes on him in case Lust tries to contact him."

"Sounds like you guys had an eventful night," Ed commented.

"Yeah, what about yourself? We heard you got captured."

"I did, but considering I couldn't find anything in the first place, it's no surprise they let me go." Breda said nothing as he parked in the visitor's lot of the East General Hospital and the two got out. Ed kept close to him as they strode into the hospital. Breda struck a cool and imposing figure with his long coat flapping around him, his hands shoved in its pockets. The rows of other visitors parted before him as he made his way to the front desk and signed them both in.

Ed continued to follow him, glancing around at the hospital. He was used to the general sight of things around a hospital, having spent practically every other weekend visiting Winry's parents in Ishval. He still wasn't used to the smell, though. More than anything though, he hated the whiteness of hospitals: it seemed too clean to him, especially when all he could think of was how Ishval must have looked after the explosion. Breda turned the both of them around a corner and muffled voices reached their ears. As they approached a nearby door, the voices elucidated themselves.

"…have time!" yelled one of the voices that sounded quite like Havoc's.

"So what do you want me to do? Abandon you?" That was most definitely Mustang's.

"If that's what it takes, then yes!" Havoc screamed as Breda pushed open the door. Neither of the two occupants in the room seemed to have noticed them. "You don't have time to waste protecting me. You let this chance slip away, and you'll never get another chance!"

"Havoc…" Mustang growled, a warning in his voice.

"No! Track down that bitch and get everything you need. I can take care of myself, but you need to catch Hughes' killer and put him behind bars!"

Mustang considered him a moment before finally giving in with an, "All right, but you better not drag too far behind."

"I won't," Havoc stated defiantly. Mustang frowned at him before finally noticing Ed in the room.

"Fullmetal, you're all right!"

"Looks that way," Ed breathed before looking at Havoc. "Sorry to hear about your leg, detective."

"It's all right," Havoc said. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. I have the absolute worst luck with women."

"We all tried to tell you she was bad news, Hav," Breda said crossly. Havoc scoffed in response.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to listen next time," he accepted.

"It wasn't like you guys had anything beyond a physical connection, right?"

"Hello! Cold bitch she might be, but did you _see_ the boobs on her?"

"They were only all too noticeable," Mustang remarked irritably. "You know, Rebecca, we're not stopping you from coming inside." Havoc seemed to perk up at the mention of Rebecca's name and Ed turned to look at the door to see a black haired woman enter with a scowl.

"I figured that I'd wait until your discussion about female anatomy was finished," Rebecca snarled and Ed was kind of glad to see that the older men had the decency to look ashamed. "Riza called me to tell me that you were injured, so I came to bring a get well present."

It was all too ironic that the get-well present was a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Havoc didn't seem to notice the irony, only exclaiming, "Thanks, Rebecca, you're the best! I think I might love you!"

"Uh-huh," Rebecca ejaculated with a blush, "I figured you needed a pick-me-up after I heard you dropped the skank."

"You were right…" Havoc mumbled distractedly as he kissed the cigarette box. Rebecca's blush reddened into cheeks of anger and Ed knew only all too well the signs of a woman who was about to burst. He wanted to get out of there, but before he could, Rebecca had stomped over to Havoc's bedside and promptly slapped him across the face. "Ow! What the hell was that for, Becca? !"

"You are such an idiot, Jean Havoc!" she screeched as she slapped him again, this time on his shoulder. "You're an oblivious, chain-smoking, womanizing, idiotic asshole!"

"Wh-wha…?" Havoc seemed at a complete loss for words, though both Mustang and Breda were surveying the scene with much humor. Rebecca slapped him again…and then she kissed him. Havoc was dumbstruck…so was everyone else in the room. Rebecca pulled back, her cheeks even more flushed, but stood there defiantly. The cigarettes were all but forgotten now. "What was that about?"

"I have been trying to catch your eye for over a year, but you've been so concerned with Big-Breasted Babes A, B, and C that you just pass completely over me." Havoc wasn't quite sure how to respond to this. "Why the hell do you think I've been trying to get the anti-fraternization rule changed?"

"I-I…" he stammered in response. Rebecca squared herself before finally stating:

"Jean Havoc, I like you and I'm willing to go out with you if you'd just notice me. So pull your head out from under your ass and do so!" Havoc gazed at her open-mouthed. "But not until I've gotten that rule repealed."

"They'll work it out…" Mustang whispered to Ed after a few more quiet moments. Then the noise of a vibrating phone came from his pocket. "Excuse me a moment." Mustang moved towards the door as if to leave the room. "Uh-huh, yeah…he's right here, actually."

Ed's ears perked up. Something in the tone of Mustang's voice told him that the head detective was referring to himself. Something else told him that the person on the other end of the line likely wouldn't be too happy with him. "Hey, Fullmetal, call's for you." Ed took the phone with much reluctance.

"H-hello," he said tentatively, and sure enough, Winry's screeches came from the other end.

"You moron! I have been trying to reach you all night and morning! I only just realized that you left your cell phone here," she yelled at him. Despite the fact that she was likely miles away in Resembool, Ed still cringed as her hostile words assailed him. He had consciously left his cell phone at home, just in case things didn't go according to plan. In hindsight, he was both glad and mad that he did.

"Okay, I'm sorry…but why would you call Mustang, then?" Ed inquired and Winry sighed over the phone.

"Maybe it's because you've been spending more time with him than with me. I thought you were on suspension."

"I am…it's just other business." Winry didn't respond to this. "Look, I'm done with that so I'll be home soon, then we can spend the rest of the day together, okay?"

"You'll do no such thing!" she snapped. Now Ed was _really_ confused. First she wanted him to come home, now she wanted him to stay away? "Look, there's another reason I called Detective Mustang, but then you were here and I got caught up in that and seeing if you were okay…"

Ed wanted to argue that she did more yelling than seeing if he was okay, but decided it was more important for her to get to the point. "Winry, what are you talking about? Is there a problem?"

"Yes!" she cried exasperatedly. "Ed, Al's gone."

"He's probably just out with Mei for the day," Ed assured her.

"No, Ed, that's the thing," Winry relayed to him, "Al told me that Mei was in the city with Lan Fan today, so he was just going to stay home. I went out shopping for food this morning and when I came back, Al was gone!"

"Y-you're sure he didn't just go out?" Ed's stomach was starting to sink as reality hit him.

"His car is still here. The door lock looked busted and the living room is trashed." Ed was starting to go numb now. Not Al…not his little brother. Why would he be kidnapped? Al had been out of the country for two years, so no case he had worked would have bit back on his brother. Furthermore, he was barely even involved with this case. Sure, Al had helped to draw some conclusions, but other than that…no…_Ed_ was too close to the case. Al was a hostage, meant to make him behave. It was the only thing that made sense, but he had to confirm it.

"Winry, was there a note? Ransom or otherwise?" Winry stopped her babbling on the other end to answer him.

"Yes…" she replied meekly. "It says, 'You've all gotten out of hand, so I'm taking Fullmetal's brother hostage. If Roy Mustang and his other detective friends don't let me finish my job, I'll kill him'…" Ed could barely breathe now. He hardly remembered thanking Winry and ending the call abruptly. His vision was starting to blur until he looked into Mustang's inquiring eyes and his brain suddenly became very focused.

"Al's been kidnapped by Lust," he said and the look in Mustang's eyes changed. It became fierce and determined.

"Time to go, Breda," Mustang snapped, and without a single word to the room's other inhabitants, the three of them left. Mustang was now the one cutting a path through the visitors and patients. "You're sure it was Lust, Fullmetal?"

"The note Winry mentioned didn't exactly name names, but she wanted to 'finish her job' on you and the others, so that obviously means she wants to kill you. It's the only thing that makes sense!"

"Right," Mustang agreed, "Breda, call Feury and tell him we're on our way to the station now. And tell him that he better have results by the time we get there or there'll be hell to pay! You ride with me, Fullmetal." Ed didn't seek to argue that point…but he certainly sought to argue once they were on their way.

"This is your fault, Mustang!" he berated the head detective. "You had Lust pinned but you just had to let her escape. Now, she's taken my brother hostage in exchange for you!"

"I did the best I could!" Mustang roared in defense. "I had an injured detective and I needed information. I didn't exactly think she was a threat, but I underestimated her."

"Now Al's paying the price…"

"I seriously doubt you'd have done anything different under the circumstances." Ed was far too incensed too make a level-headed response, so he simply opted to keep his mouth shut. However, as soon as Mustang parked the car at the station, he sprung out and bounded up the steps two at a time, the head detective nipping at his heels. Breda had arrived there in front of them.

"We got a lead, boss!" Breda called to him.

"You've found Lust, then?" Mustang said loudly and Feury swiveled around to face them. He gave a small nod to Ed to show that the young detective was glad he was safe; a nod which Ed returned. Then he began to talk.

"I was having trouble locating her until Detective Breda called," Feury confessed. "Once he told me that Alphonse was taken hostage I started tracking his cellphone. Your brother's pretty smart, Ed, he must've hidden his phone so she wouldn't find it."

"So you found him through his phone?" Ed asked, more than eager to find his brother.

"Well, after a minute or two, the signal cut off so I figured that they entered a parking garage. I started scanning security cameras and found this." He clicked his mouse and a piece of footage popped up depicting a practically murderous Lust dragging a hooded Al through the parking garage. Ed looked to Mustang in triumph, but the man's attention was divided: he had received another phone call. "That was underneath an apartment at 3rd and Elton about three minutes ago."

"3rd and Elton?" Mustang questioned, his previous conversation having finished. "That's Charlene McDougal's old place…it's been abandoned since her death. Never thought she'd use such an old location. Breda, I want you to take Feury and Fullmetal there and take her out."

"What about you, sir?" Breda questioned and Mustang held up his phone.

"Hawkeye called. Something happened and I need to find out what."

"With all respect, sir, I don't think three people will be enough, especially when one is completely untrained." Mustang contemplated this a moment before yelling across his desk.

"Hey, Vorac!" The head detective's fat and stubby partner looked up from his plate of donuts and seemed to notice the man calling him, for he waddled over moments later. "I need you to go with Breda and the others here."

"Why?" he asked, making Ed rather irritated. His brother's life was at stake and the man had the gall to ask why?

"Havoc's out of commission and we need a fourth man to take Lust down," he explained before turning back to the group at large. "Remember, Lust is considered armed and dangerous and must be taken with extreme caution. Your first priority is to make sure that Alphonse Elric is safe, however. Call me when it's done."

Mustang left as quickly as they had come. Breda then quickly addressed the group, "All right, Vorac rides with me; Fullmetal with Feury. We take assault rifles and go in from the front. Stay vigilant and we'll be fine."

Ed wasn't exactly sure if he'd agree that it'd be that easy, but that may have just been his pounding heart talking. As one mobile unit, the four exited the police station and made their way to the cars. Feury didn't bother to say anything to Ed as they started the car, and the forensics specialist preferred it that way. The car pealed out of the parking lot and shot after Breda's as they followed him through the streets of East City. The drive was probably a good fifteen minutes, but it had felt like seconds to Ed…things were moving all too quickly. Only too soon were they stopped and Breda was pulling assault rifles and handing them to the other detectives. He made silent motions and the three followed him.

It was a slow and steady process, much to Ed's displeasure. Who knew when Lust could decide they weren't going to comply and choose to kill Al? They rushed up the stairs and Ed could find his head barely remembering the events of the last half hour, it was all such a blur. At long last they reached a door on the third floor, Vorac lumbering behind them, and paused outside of it. "All right," Breda instructed, "we breach in 3…2…"

An audible click sounded and Ed found the end of an assault rifle jammed to his head. His eyes looked warily to the side to see Vorac on the other end of the assault rifle. Breda and Feury turned slowly but Vorac glared at them, his hungry eyes glimmering in the dimly lit hallway. "Guns down! Now!" With great reluctance, they dropped their weapons.

"What're you doing detective?" Breda questioned with a scowl. Vorac didn't answer, keeping his gun held level at Ed's brain.

"Against the wall! All of you!" Vorac commanded and all of them had no choice but to obey. Ed's head was swimming. They were so close…why was this detective interfering? He could have sworn that Breda said Raven was the dirty cop, not Vorac. "I won't let you hurt Lust!"

"So you're going to kill us in an occupied building?" Breda asked scornfully.

"If it will save Lust's life, then yes." Ed could hear the tone of sick affection for the woman in the fat man's voice. "I don't know how you found out about her, but I won't let you hurt her."

"If only _Havoc_ weren't injured, we wouldn't have had a problem," Feury said dejectedly. Ed had one moment where he realized something was off about the way Feury said Havoc's name. The next moment, the door had burst open, providing all the distraction that Ed needed. He whipped around and punched Vorac in the jaw as Breda snapped into action, grabbing the gun and pointing it at the man. Vorac seemed to be in tears, trying to regain his bearings.

"Don't move, Gluttony," said a familiar voice and Ed looked to see…

"Detective Havoc? ! I thought you were in the hospital!" He noticed that the man seemed to be standing perfectly fine. "I thought your leg was shot."

"It was just a graze…we just played it up for your sake," Havoc told him, pointing a gun at the back of Vorac, or rather, Gluttony's head. Gluttony seemed to be recovering.

"Where's Lust? !" he wailed and Ed was reminded of a rather large toddler. "What have you done to her? Lust! Lust!"

"Lust isn't here," Havoc spat vindictively, "so shut up, fatso!" Clearly not wanting to hear the man's high-pitched cries for Lust, he smacked him on the back of his head with gun. Gluttony was out in a second. "Your brother's perfectly safe, too."

"I…I don't understand," Ed breathed. Feury was the one who answered.

"Lust is in our custody," he explained. "She gave us some information that Head Detective Mustang decided to act on immediately."

"In particular," Breda continued, "she told us that the one person Mr. Vorac here, or Gluttony, would risk his position to protect would be Lust herself. We had to lure him into a situation where Lust's life was in danger. The only way he could believe that to be the case would be if you truly believed that Lust had taken your brother.

"But the security video," Ed challenged and Havoc chuckled.

"Hawkeye's parking garage," he explained. "Sorry for keeping you in the dark, kid, but the plan ended up working like a charm."

"But…but why? And where's Mustang?"

"To answer both questions: to catch the real corrupt cop, Captain Raven," Breda answered, taking out his phone and pressing a number on speed dial. "Boss, we got him. Are you in position?"

Ed's head was still reeling from the revelation that this had all been a setup, but at the same time he was relieved. All the things that had seemed mildly strange to Ed: him being part of the raid, such a small group…it all made sense. He barely even heard Detective Breda until the older man bent down and grabbed a phone from Gluttony's pocket. He called a number from it and waited. After a moment, he quickly said, "We have both Lust and Gluttony. If you don't meet Roy Mustang at the Xenotime Mall in twenty minutes we _will_ book them on attempted murder of a police officer." There was a small silence on their end before Breda lowered the phone and put the one connected to Mustang back on.

"He said, 'I guess it's time for me to do some cleaning up then'," Breda told the head detective on the other end. A moment passed. A simple beat. Then Breda turned to the other three with a horrified expression. "The line went dead."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: It's only been a month. I've been sitting on this chapter for a while (it was written three weeks ago) but am just now posting it. Either way, the plot is propelling forward and next chapter you'll see just what led up to this, from the other point of view. Anyway, I'm exceedingly grateful for all my reviews next chapter, although I'd like to note something: I can take criticism well, even if it's about spelling errors that I miss in my editing process, but at least take the time to mention something else at well, otherwise I feel like you just want to attack some of my few mistakes. In any case, look forward to the next chapter soon, review, and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	19. Chapter 19

**For the first time…I actually can't think of anything to say here. Well…here's Chapter 19, I truly hope you enjoy it.**

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><p><span>Chapter 19<span>

"You can't kill me," Lust stated defiantly.

"Try me." And Mustang fired. The shot barely missed her ear, thudding into the hard packed dirt she was lying on. Lust's eyes grew wide from the close call as Mustang stood back up, cocking his gun for another round just in case. "You're right; I won't kill you, because the information you're going to give me is so much more valuable than your dead body."

"I'm not going to tell you anything," she responded teasingly. Roy chuckled mirthlessly.

"Oh, I think you will," he responded with a smirk. "You see, Lust, you've injured one of my friends. I would think it's only fitting I do the same to you. You're completely correct in thinking I won't kill you…but that doesn't mean that I won't shoot you until you bleed. It would be extremely painful, especially since I'll make sure that you don't bleed out…and you won't get any proper attention until you talk to me.

"So, what will it be, Lust?" His threat was strong, he knew that. Regardless, Lust's dark eyes flitted around the area, searching for any means of escape possible. However, she quickly ascertained that there was no way out of this situation.

She breathed in deeply before answering, "Fine. I'll talk."

"Good choice," Mustang responded, still keeping his gun trained on her.

"But not here," she quickly amended. Mustang shrugged. It made no difference to him whether it was here or elsewhere. Before she got another word out, he clocked her on the head with his gun. She was out almost instantly. He didn't want to waste another moment. With three quick strides, he walked to the van and knocked on it thrice. Breda opened the door and stepped out.

"Havoc needs help, he's bleeding," Mustang relayed to him and Breda moved toward the blonde-haired man, crouched on the ground. "Once you've done that, help me grab Lust here, we're taking her to Hawkeye's place."

"You got it, boss." It was a testament to how well-trained these detectives were, as well as how loyal, that they moved without saying a single thing. Within five minutes, Havoc was seated in the back, his leg bandaged in a tourniquet by Hawkeye, Lust was thrown in a corner, still unconscious, and the white van was on its way to Riza's place.

He knew that they were being watched, but more likely than not, he hoped that the events of tonight would allow them to escape detection. After all, the van they were riding in was actually taken from evidence. It wasn't directly linked to any of them or the cases they worked and by the time anyone figured it out, it would be too late. Furthermore, they most likely assumed that Lust had completed her job and so they wouldn't need any surveillance on him tonight. The time frame was nonetheless a small one. He had to get that information from Lust as quickly as possible.

Breda soon pulled the van into the parking garage of Hawkeye's apartment building and parked in front of the stairwell. All too quickly, they had grabbed Lust and stealthily dragged her up the stairs to Hawkeye's apartment. Hawkeye herself placed Havoc on her couch, where he sat regaining his breath. His tourniquet wasn't quite soaked through, so the graze couldn't have been that bad, but he'd at least need to see a doctor to get himself patched up. Mustang wrenched his attention away from his subordinate and instead aided Breda in tying Lust to a sturdy chair and cuffing her as well, for good measure. It was mere moments later that she woke up.

"Time to talk," he commanded as the murderous woman regained control of her senses.

"I want immunity," she finally said after a moment. Mustang's eyes narrowed in on her.

"I don't think so," Mustang responded angrily. "You pulled a gun on a cop."

"Then what are you going to do, detective?" she asked coldly. "Forgive me if talking doesn't completely suit my best interests. Not shooting me will only take you so far." Mustang tilted his head, considering her for a moment.

"All right, I'll take attempted murder off the table, and if you agree to confess in open court should we catch Bradley, I'll have the DA take off some years." Now it was Lust's turn to survey him with mild interest.

"I suppose that's the most generosity I'll get from a cop. Your pockets aren't very big. What do you want to know?"

"Commissioner Bradley, is he the head of Homunculus Corporation?" Mustang asked pointedly.

"You know that he is, but good luck proving it," Lust chuckled out. "Bradley's smart; he's not stupid enough to leave evidence lying around. I don't think anyone in the company knows where he gets his funding from…then again, it's not like I'm in Finance."

"Then what do you do?"

Lust sighed, as though she was tired of these proceedings. "I told you, my job is to get close to potential threats and find out how much they know. On the side, I usually do weapons deals but ever since you became a thorn in our side, I haven't exactly had time off." She glared at him, like it was all his fault that her life sucked right now. Well, he wasn't going to deny that.

"You said you didn't kill Maes Hughes," he stated vehemently, "then who did?"

"I'm not quite sure I can answer that," she said, and for the first time she looked a little nervous. "I know who did it, but I'm not about to rat him out. If he found out, he'd probably cut out my tongue, and then kill me. He likes doing sadistic things like that."

"So it's a he?" Lust's lips twitched into a smirk.

"Yes, a he…though let's face it, that's not very useful, is it? Besides, Bradley may not have pulled the trigger, but he did pull the strings," Lust stated confidently. "That's all you're getting from me about Hughes' murder. I don't really know much more than that. We people in Homunculus Corp tend to keep our business to ourselves so nothing slips through the cracks."

"Then what can you tell me?" Mustang asked, his temper starting to rise.

"I can tell you names…" she admitted. "Names that might be valuable to your investigation."

"Names like Raven?" Lust's smirk didn't falter.

"Raven's one, though at first he wanted nothing to do with us. But what with his wife's hospital bills, he came to see the light. After a while, he became less useful to us at East PD but still useful in general. He's been Bradley's inside man for many years, keeping tabs on all our operatives inside the department."

"So if one of the other corrupt cops was caught or found out, Raven would be the one sent to clean up the mess?" Mustang could feel his heart racing. He was getting close to the truth now.

"More or less. He'd probably even be a reliable source on Bradley," Lust confirmed. A plan was starting to form in Mustang's head, but he needed just a little more information to firmly cement it.

"What other names can you tell me?"

"I only ever dealt with Raven from time to time, so beyond him, I don't know our operatives," Lust said coolly. "However, I do know one other name…a name that I think you'll know quite well. My partner, and yours as well: Vorac, or Gluttony as we know him."

Mustang sat back. It all made sense now. Vorac had never seemed like the sharpest tool in the shed, and the head detective had repeatedly wondered how such a man had made detective over at Central. Now it was obvious: the man never _was_ a detective. He was just a plant by Bradley to observe and report on Mustang. He started smiling, but Lust was still talking and he made sure to focus on her.

"I'll tell you one more thing before I'm out of useful information," Lust stated airily. "Gluttony is indeed one of your corrupt cops, but if you want to out him, you'll have to use me as bait. After all, the only thing Gluttony loves more than food is me. If he believes I'm in danger, then he'll show himself. He's not known for his intelligence." Mustang glanced her over before he stood.

"All right, then," he said, "that'll be enough to work with."

"And you'll take that into consideration for me?" Lust asked.

"We'll see," he stated with his own smirk as hers dropped off. "Havoc, how long do you think you can last without a hospital?"

"How long do you need?" Havoc asked and Mustang was pleased to hear that the words weren't forced. "The pain's gone down, so if you need something done, I can handle it."

"Good," he responded, "stay here, then. Hawkeye, watch after our friend here. Breda, you and I are going to make a stop." A quick "Yes, sir!" later, and both the head detective and Breda were striding from the apartment, Hawkeye's keys jangling in Mustang's hand.

"Do you have some kind of plan, sir?" Breda asked, keeping stride with him.

"It's in progress. I'd need to set a few more pieces first," he muttered distinctly. In truth, Mustang had the plan almost fully formed as soon as Lust had mentioned that Vorac was Gluttony. The other information she gave just made it easier to solidify said plan. Of course, it was going to be a lot more complicated than tonight's plan and would require everyone acting as he hoped they would act. Most of all, however, it was going to require the cooperation of two very key people. As he pulled up to the Elric residence in Resembool, he only hoped they'd be willing.

"Detective Mustang?" came Winry's voice as she opened the door to let them in. "Can I ask why you're here? Did something happen to Ed?"

"Ed should be fine," he assured her, even if he wasn't quite sure himself. Either way, he had to work fast. "Is Alphonse here?"

"Uh…yeah," Winry mumbled distractedly. "I'll go get him for you." Mustang thanked her and she quickly left the foyer. Breda's ringtone went off almost as soon as she was out of earshot.

"Feury's almost in East City, he's wondering what to do," Breda relayed to the head detective.

"Tell him to go to the police station and wait there for further instructions."

"What about your plan?" Breda asked as he continued texting Feury.

"It won't even get off the ground without these two." Thankfully, not a moment more passed before both Alphonse and Winry showed up. Before Al could even utter a word of greeting, Mustang had launched into action. "I need help from the both of you, but I need to know if you're willing to deceive Ed."

"Deceive Ed? !" Winry cried out, the confusion in her voice displaying on Al's face.

"What's going on, detective?" Al asked with a crinkle of his forehead and a narrowing of his eyes. "I thought Ed was with you tonight, but now you're asking us to deceive him."

"Circumstances changed and we received intel that we need to act on immediately. Your brother is the only one that doesn't know this, so if my plan is going to work I'll need your cooperation in deceiving Ed," Mustang explained hurriedly. They really couldn't waste any more time. There was no doubt that Ed was in no mortal danger, but everything hinged on just when Bradley was going to let the forensics specialist go free. "Are you in or out?"

A tiny beat passed between Al and Winry before they both nodded. "What do you need?"

"If something were to happen to you, Alphonse, am I correct in thinking that your brother would do anything and everything to save you as quickly as possible?"

"Yeah…Ed's always been hotheaded like that," Al responded.

"Good, then that'll work," Mustang mused. "As of this moment, Alphonse, you're kidnapped by a woman named Lust, understood?"

"Wait, kidnapped?" Winry questioned. "If Al is kidnapped, then what am I supposed to do?"

"Look, this is how the plan will go," Mustang began to explain, "Alphonse will come with us. We're going to need visual proof that Alphonse has been 'kidnapped'. Meanwhile, Ed will be completely oblivious to this. However, once Ed's with me, you'll receive a text from me. At that point, you'll call my cell phone and ask to speak to Ed. You'll tell him that Alphonse is missing and that there was a note. If I know Fullmetal, he'll instantly set me on looking for his brother."

"But how does that fit into your overall plan?" Breda asked. Mustang smirked and tapped his head.

"I'm keeping that in here for now," he said. "If something does go horribly wrong, I don't want Mrs. Elric's life in danger. So, can the both of you do your parts?"

"Of course."

"Yeah!" Mustang nodded at them in thanks.

"Alphonse, with me. Ms. Winry, if you'll wait for my call." Winry gave him a thumbs up and the three men quickly left the house. It was only when they were well on their way back to East City that Mustang finally spoke again. "Breda, tell Feury to hack into the parking garage at Hawkeye's place."

"Remotely?" Breda questioned skeptically.

"This _is_ Feury we're talking about. He's going to be recording Alphonse held hostage." Breda did as his boss commanded but not without a voiced complaint.

"Sir, why do I get the feeling your plans are getting more complex by the day?"

"That's a good thing," Mustang answered. "The more complex the gambit is, the harder it is for the enemy to figure it out."

"Doesn't help if it's too complex for everybody else partaking in the plan."

"That's why I'm keeping your parts simple," he told him.

"If you say so." But though Breda's tone was skeptical, he said no more complaints as they pulled up to Hawkeye's apartment once again. Thankfully the scene inside the apartment was no different than when they had left. As soon as everybody had settled in, the head detective immediately went to work with his plan.

"Ed is currently at the Bradley residence, we know this for a fact," he began and all four of his companions and his captive had their eyes locked on him. "Likelihood is that Ed _will_ be released because his death or confinement will raise too many questions. Also likely, is that he'll go to the police station right away to report to me or one of you. We can use his ignorance of the situation to our advantage. Thanks to the intel from Lust we know that Vorac, codename Gluttony, is one of the people working for Homunculus Corp. We also know that if Lust was in danger of being captured, he would show himself. If he's captured as well, we'll also be able to lure Raven out and that should give us all the dirt we need on Bradley."

"So what's the plan, sir?" Hawkeye asked as the head detective continued to pace up and down the room.

"It's simple," he said while Breda scoffed. "We are going to trick Ed into thinking that Lust has kidnapped Alphonse. By now, Feury has hacked into the parking garage security feed. We'll give him visual proof so that he doesn't doubt it. At the same time, I'll take Havoc to the hospital. Breda, I want you to wait at the police station until Fullmetal shows up, then bring him to the hospital."

"What should I tell him?" Breda asked.

"Tell him that Lust got away due to Havoc's injury," Mustang replied. "We'll play up Havoc's injury to everyone, but the reality will be that as soon as Ed gets the call that Alphonse has been kidnapped, we'll make our move. Breda, you and I will return to the station with Fullmetal where Feury will tell us he's found Lust."

"Where?"

"Charlene McDougal's old place," Mustang answered with a widened-eye look from Lust. "It's been empty since her death, and is the perfect place for an ambush. Havoc, you'll be behind the door and hopefully, if everything goes well, Gluttony will turn on the rest before they reach the door. We'll use the element of surprise to capture Gluttony!"

"Will you be joining us on this sting, boss?" Havoc inquired.

"Not in the physical sense. I'll pretend that Hawkeye has given me a call and set myself up at the Xenotime Mall. It's not too far and should serve well for meeting Raven. As soon as you've gotten Gluttony, call me and I'll tell you what to do."

"What about myself, sir?" Hawkeye asked.

"I need someone here to keep an eye on Lust," he told her. "Also, call Armstrong and have him sit on the East Grand Hotel; Raven's staying there. If all goes well, we'll have Raven and maybe even Bradley in custody by this afternoon. Any questions?" The silence was his answer. "Good. Hawkeye, get that footage of Alphonse and Lust. Havoc, let's get you to the hospital. Breda, go to Feury and tell him everything. Call me as soon as you and Ed are at the hospital and then hang up."

"Yes, sir!" The affirmation was like music to his ears. Mustang quickly grabbed Havoc, whose leg was thankfully able to sustain his weight, and the two left the others quickly. It didn't take long for them to reach the hospital and soon after Havoc was checked in. Mustang briefly left him after that, returning home to change his clothes to his usual detective ensemble, but making sure to keep himself armed. He returned within the hour.

_Now we wait…_And wait they did. It was already midmorning by the time that Mustang had rejoined Havoc, who was looking much better. Soon after that, the call came from Breda. It was showtime. As fast as he could, Mustang sent a text off to Winry, outlining what she should say before turning to Havoc. "Argue with me."

"About what?" Havoc asked, confusion spreading rapidly across his face.

"The fact that we let Lust escape. We need to convince Ed that you're stuck here."

"Oh…right," Havoc took a deep breath as the footsteps that no doubt belonged to Ed and Breda came closer. Then Havoc put on his best face of anger and yelled, "You let her go! You don't have time!" Mustang smirked a moment; Havoc's acting skills were better than he thought. Now he just had to play his part.

His smirk dropped off and he responded in kind. "So what do you want me to do? Abandon you?"

"If that's what it takes, then yes!" Havoc screamed. The door opened behind him, but Mustang pretended to not notice, so did Havoc. "You don't have time to waste protecting me. You let this chance slip away, and you'll never get another chance!"

"Havoc…" he growled angrily.

"No! Track down that bitch and get everything you need. I can take care of myself, but you need to catch Hughes' killer and put him behind bars!"

Knowing that Ed was watching, Mustang pretended to consider the fact for a moment before answering, "All right, but you better not drag too far behind."

"I won't," came the defiant and utterly true response. Realizing that their fake argument was now finished, Mustang frowned as he thought of what to do next. Of course, he quickly came to the conclusion that he had to acknowledge Ed's presence…and so he did.

"Fullmetal, you're all right!" he exclaimed loudly.

"Looks that way," Ed breathed out. Mustang noticed that he looked more than exhausted. Of course, being held hostage for a few hours would have probably done that to anyone. "Sorry to hear about your leg, detective."

"It's all right," Havoc responded. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. I have the absolute worst luck with women."

"We all tried to tell you she was bad news, Hav," Breda scolded him. Mustang's eyes darted around the room as the others spoke. It was certainly easier to keep the charade if there was a kernel of truth to everything they were saying. As he went to put his eyes back on Breda and Havoc he heard movement outside and frowned, but when his eyes moved back he saw the figure outside wasn't tense in the slightest. That severely narrowed down who it could possibly be.

"Yeah, I'll make sure to listen next time," Havoc conceded.

"It wasn't like you guys had anything beyond a physical connection, right?" Breda asked.

"Hello! Cold bitch she might be, but did you _see_ the boobs on her?"

"They were only all too noticeable," Mustang remarked irritably, just as he figured out who was lurking behind the door. "You know, Rebecca, we're not stopping you from coming inside." There was a sound outside and Rebecca walked in the room with a scowl on her face.

"I figured that I'd wait until your discussion about female anatomy was finished," she snarled and Mustang frowned at her. "Riza called me to tell me that you were injured, so I came to bring a get well present."

"Thanks, Rebecca, you're the best! I think I might love you!" Havoc said in delight as he took the pack of cigarettes she had brought. Mustang, on the other hand, wasn't quite so pleased. Rebecca shouldn't have even been there to begin with.

"Uh-huh," Rebecca murmured, "I figured you needed a pick-me-up after I heard you dropped the skank."

"You were right…" Havoc mumbled as he kissed his cigarette box. It took only a few more seconds for Rebecca to explode, drawing the head detective's thoughts away from his own gripes to that of his assaulted subordinate. "Ow! What the hell was that for, Becca? !"

"You are such an idiot, Jean Havoc!" she screeched, slapping him on the shoulder. "You're an oblivious, chain-smoking, womanizing, idiotic asshole!" Havoc was at an obvious loss for words, but Mustang merely quirked an eyebrow. After all of her machinations, Rebecca was very much disregarding everything she had tried to do. It made Roy chuckle inside. Then she kissed Havoc and even the stoic head detective couldn't stop his jaw from dropping a little, completely forgetting his previous annoyance. "I have been trying to catch your eye for over a year, but you've been so concerned with Big-Breasted Babes A, B, and C that you just pass completely over me."

"I-I…" Havoc stammered out in response to Rebecca's declaration. Rebecca stood back proudly.

"Jean Havoc, I like you and I'm willing to go out with you if you'd just notice me. So pull your head out from under your ass and do so!" There was a small moment where Havoc merely gazed at her open-mouthed before she added, "But not until I've gotten that rule repealed."

"They'll work it out…" Mustang whispered to Ed who was still staring at the scene with a dumbfounded expression. Mustang's phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. The game was on. "Excuse me a moment."

"Detective Mustang? It's Winry," answered the female voice of Ed's wife.

"Uh-huh, yeah…" Mustang spoke into the phone with tension, filling the space to make it seem like a normal conversation. "He's right here, actually. Hey, Fullmetal, call's for you."

Ed took the phone reluctantly as Mustang turned his thoughts away. So far the plan was fine and he could only hope that Winry was as good an actress as Havoc. Of course, there was still the problem of Rebecca. There was no doubt in his mind that Rebecca had been the one to call Riza, though she would never admit it. Truthfully, Rebecca's presence would probably help to sell the deception, but mostly he was hoping that Rebecca wouldn't hamper Havoc down in his movements. Mustang stole a quick and inquiring glance at Ed who was lowering the phone with wide eyes.

"Al's been kidnapped by Lust," he said and Mustang focused, as though those had been the magic words. In a way, they were.

"Time to go, Breda," he snapped and he whipped out of the room with purpose, Ed and Breda behind him. "You're sure it was Lust, Fullmetal?"

"The note Winry mentioned didn't exactly name names, but she wanted to 'finish her job' on you and the others, so that obviously means she wants to kill you. It's the only thing that makes sense!"

"Right," Mustang quickly agreed. The plan was already going better than anticipated. "Breda, call Feury and tell him we're on our way to the station now. And tell him that he better have results by the time we get there or there'll be hell to pay! You ride with me, Fullmetal." Thankfully, Ed agreed and soon the two of them were on their way. Breda would no doubt have told Feury to bring up the fake footage by the time they got there, so everything would work out. Ed, clearly, wasn't so sure.

"This is your fault, Mustang! You had Lust pinned but you just had to let her escape. Now, she's taken my brother hostage in exchange for you!"

"I did the best I could!" Mustang retorted, not really looking for an argument. "I had an injured detective and I needed information. I didn't exactly think she was a threat, but I underestimated her."

"Now Al's paying the price…" Ed muttered out.

"I seriously doubt you'd have done anything different under the circumstances." Ed refused to say anything more and that suited the head detective. Soon after, they arrived at the station and bounded out. As soon as they were inside, Breda began the next part of the plan.

"We got a lead, boss!"

"You've found Lust, then?" Mustang asked loudly, hoping to draw as much attention as possible. Feury turned around to answer him.

"I was having trouble locating her until Detective Breda called," Feury told them. "Once he told me that Alphonse was taken hostage I started tracking his cellphone. Your brother's pretty smart, Ed, he must've hidden his phone so she wouldn't find it."

"So you found him through his phone?" Ed asked eagerly, his eyes focused on Feury. Mustang reached surreptitiously into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, pretending to answer a call.

"Well, after a minute or two, the signal cut off so I figured that they entered a parking garage. I started scanning security cameras and found this." Feury then showed the footage they had managed to record at Hawkeye's parking garage. "That was underneath an apartment at 3rd and Elton about three minutes ago."

"3rd and Elton?" Mustang said, lowering his phone. "That's Charlene McDougal's old place…it's been abandoned since her death. Never thought she'd use such an old location. Breda, I want you to take Feury and Fullmetal there and take her out."

"What about you, sir?" Breda asked, prompting Mustang to hold up his phone.

"Hawkeye called. Something happened and I need to find out what."

"With all respect, sir, I don't think three people will be enough, especially when one is completely untrained." Mustang pretended to think about this before glancing over at his desk. Vorac-Gluttony was sitting at his desk, looking greedily at a plate of donuts. Well, it was a good thing he was the man's boss.

"Hey, Vorac!" Gluttony looked up and saw him, waddling over seconds later. "I need you to go with Breda and the others here."

"Why?" he asked irritably.

"Havoc's out of commission and we need a fourth man to take Lust down." It was like magic. Gluttony's nose crinkled and his eyes widened. He was scared. "Remember, Lust is considered armed and dangerous and must be taken with extreme caution. Your first priority is to make sure that Alphonse Elric is safe, however. Call me when it's done." As soon as the words left his mouth, Mustang was gone. He knew that if he stayed there any longer, there was a chance either Ed or Vorac could unveil the possibility of a sting.

Of course, moving at the speed that he did, he had soon cleared the station itself and was in his car. The Xenotime Mall was only twenty minutes away by car and it would take them roughly half an hour to get up to Charlene McDougal's old place while being fully equipped. Either way, he had to hurry. He had chosen the Xenotime Mall because it was far enough away from East City but there were enough people to guarantee his safety there. Now he just hoped everything else went according to plan.

Twenty minutes later, the head detective had arrived and quickly made his way to the food court, the most populated location in the mall, particularly for a late Sunday morning. He checked his watch as he sat an unoccupied table. There were numerous people at the fast-food joints, a group of teenagers giggling as they weaved through the tables, families enjoying their meals with one another, and a man silently unfolding his newspaper as he sat down two tables away, his face covered by the voluminous paper. It seemed like a perfect situation for the head detective.

Moments later his phone rang and he answered it, hearing the words he wanted to hear. "Boss, we got him. Are you in position?"

"I'm set up here," Mustang confirmed. "All right, here's what you should do. Gluttony should have a phone on him somewhere. Pick it up and call the first number on speed dial, likely Raven in the case of emergencies. Tell them 'We have both Lust and Gluttony. If you don't meet Roy Mustang at the Xenotime Mall in twenty minutes we _will_ book them on attempted murder of a police officer.' After that, hang up and tell me what they said." Breda quickly gave his acknowledgement and Mustang sat back to wait.

A phone rang loudly across the food court and Mustang saw the newspaper-reading man reach into his pocket to answer the call. His voice was just as loud as his call. "I guess it's time for me to do some cleaning up then." Mustang had no further time to dwell on it since Breda was back on the line.

"He said, 'I guess it's time for me to do some cleaning up then'."

Roy Mustang's heart stopped. His phone tumbled from his grasp, hitting the floor with a practically inaudible clatter. The man who had taken the phone call was tucking his phone away, placing the newspaper neatly onto the table, next to a magazine. Mustang _knew_ him. He had _seen_ him before, the very day that Kimblee had come to East. Mustang stood, almost unaware of his own actions as he floated over to the table where the man sat, pleasantly humming.

"Excuse me," Mustang said forcefully and the man looked at him inquisitively. "Who were you on the phone with just now?"

"I don't think that's any of your business," the man replied.

"Just tell me," he ordered.

"Look do I have to call security?" Mustang's eyes narrowed and suddenly the man laughed. "I'm just kidding Head Detective Mustang. You're such a stick in the mud! Please, take a seat. The name's Envy, though I would suppose you know me as Detective Jealot, right? Yeah, I followed you from the police station…figured you were up to something."

Mustang took a seat warily, eyeing Envy the whole time. "I was expecting Raven."

"Raven?" Envy cajoled. "That old man's barely worth the time it would take to crap on him. He's pathetic. Besides, you and your marry little band have moved far beyond the need for a slap on the wrist. They don't call me in for negotiation."

"So you _are_ a part of Homunculus Corp?" Mustang asked, his hand sliding stealthily towards his gun.

"Naturally…" Envy admitted, a leering smile beaming off his face. "Ah ah, gun on the table, unless you want me to use my own to plaster some of these civilian's brains to the wall. Wouldn't that be fun?" Mustang glanced down and saw the gun hidden beneath the magazine, the newspaper now covering it as well. Scowling to himself, he grabbed his own weapon and slid it across the table. "I've been waiting to meet you, you know."

"We've met before," Mustang growled in response.

"As Detective Jealot. That was just a cover. I've always wanted to meet you as Envy."

"And why would that be?" Envy cocked an eyebrow and laughed maliciously.

"Because it's you: the great Roy Mustang, hero of the police force in Ishval, youngest head detective on a search for vengeance for his best friend Hughes. Bradley tells me you're on quite the crusade." Envy crossed his legs as he leaned back to survey the head detective. "Not that you were a problem until the pipsqueak came to East."

"What's Fullmetal got to do with this?"

"You weren't a problem until he started helping you," Envy remarked with a scowl. "We thought you'd all but given up on the case. Hah, guess we shouldn't underestimate vengeance as a motive. Didn't help that the pipsqueak's target was connected to yours, though you didn't notice it until late in the game."

"And now I'm too much of a threat, aren't I?" Mustang asked Envy who leaned forward with a gleam in his eye.

"Threat? You're nothing more than an ant to us."

"Really? Then why are they sending you to talk with me?"

"Like I said, I'm not here for negotiation. I'm here for threats," Envy said, slamming his hand on his gun for emphasis. "I usually make good on my threats."

"I thought I wasn't enough of a problem," Mustang said smugly.

"We don't care if you keep running after a man you're never going to catch, but if you expose half of our operatives, then we have a problem." Envy sighed theatrically. "So, here's the deal. You're going to back off or you might find some poison in your drink."

"I highly doubt you'd be smart enough to get away with killing a cop," Mustang scoffed.

"Really? 'Cause I've been getting away with it for two years!" Now his stomach fell out. There was something in the gleeful tone of Envy's voice and the leering smile on his face that said his words contained a terrible truth. Fear replaced calm and a desperation suddenly entered Mustang's mind. "That's right…I killed Maes Hughes."

"Hughes was a skilled detective. He wouldn't have been killed by the likes of you," Mustang contested.

"Maybe so, but then again," Envy said with a shrug before his voice changed, "I don't think he'd expect a trick like this." Mustang's eyes widened. Envy's voice had unmistakably turned into that of Gracia Hughes.

"N-not possible…" Envy laughed with unsuppressed glee.

"Ohhh….you should see your face! That's exactly how Hughes looked. I've always been good with disguises but the look on his face was just priceless! He thought his wife was right there, before I shot him! Three times! In the chest!" Envy's face was maniacal now and Mustang could only stare at him with horror. "You don't know the rush it gave me! And when I bent down to put the bloody phone back on the hook, I could smell the cinnamon and apple pie. Too ironic that it was the same thing you had on the day I met you!

"It brought back such wonderful memories of that night! The second I smelled it, I knew just what it was. It was…ahhh…exhilarating!"

"You killed Hughes?" Mustang growled, his brain finally catching up to what was going on.

"Yes, I did. Never have I seen such an enjoyable death, before or since," Envy remarked, glancing down at his watch. "Well, I'm afraid that's all the time I have to talk. Be sure to keep this conversation in mind." Envy gathered up his things from the table, including Mustang's gun, and stood, beginning to walk away. Mustang himself stood before he got too far.

"Envy, wait!" he cried, a pleading, almost desperate tone that almost sickened him to hear. Envy turned back, the wicked smile still on his face.

"What is it? You want to know more about how Hughes died? Because I remember it all. Every. Single. Second." Mustang only stared at him a moment, the blood pounding in his ears. Then he plunged his hand into his coat pocket, and before Envy could react-

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Envy staggered for a moment, glancing at the three holes in his chest. He looked shocked as he glanced at Mustang. "Three times, wasn't it, Envy? You talk too much."

Envy's body fell, hitting the cold floor as screams pierced the air around it. The guns in his possession tumbled out into plain view and his eyes stared upward, unblinking and unseeing. Envy, the man who had shot Hughes, was dead. Calmness filling him again, Roy sat back down at the table, placing his hidden gun on it, and breathed deeply as he waited for the cops who would come to the scene.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: BAM! I've been waiting to write this part since word 1! Yes, Roy has shot Envy, so what's going to happen now? Well, you'll have to wait for the next chapter. By the way, the inspiration for this scene was taken from a popular TV Show. Bonus points to anyone who can guess which one. Now, a quick note on Lust in case anyone wants to call me out on it: Lust in this story is a hybrid of both the manga and first anime. She is just as cold and vicious as the manga but is also very self-serving like her anime counterpart. This is the reason she helps Mustang so willingly. Anyway, I hope that the excitement of this chapter garners me a review…we're almost at 200! Well, Chapter 20 will come soon, so be patient, review, and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	20. Chapter 20

**This begins the second to last arc of the story. The climax is coming quickly. So let's start Chapter 20!**

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><p><span>Chapter 20<span>

Somehow, Ed couldn't believe he was standing here, in the box off the interrogation room. Through the two-way mirror he could see Mustang being interrogated by the man they called Fokker. Well, it was less of an interrogation and more of a staring contest at this point. Either way, Ed was stuck watching them until they said something one way or the other. The truly funny part was that he wasn't even a cop, but given all the time he had spent with Mustang lately, and his proximity to the head detective's team, he himself had been called into the room.

Something had gone wrong with the plan, that much was certain. Mustang was not supposed to have ended the call, and the second that happened, everyone realized that the plan was dashed to pieces. So they had to act the way they were supposed to, despite the changes. Breda and Havoc cuffed Gluttony and led him out of the building while Feury called Hawkeye. All of them arrived at the station soon after. Ed himself gave a visible sigh of relief when he saw that his brother was with Hawkeye. While the officers went to book both Vorac and Lust, Ed took his brother aside.

"I'm perfectly fine, Ed," Al said, and Ed couldn't help but frown at him. "You worry too much."

"You're my little brother, I'm obligated to worry about you." Al just smiled at him softly. "But that was low, Al. I can't believe you went so far as to actually deceive me."

"You've done quite the bit of deceiving yourself, brother," Al pointed out. Ed simply hand-waved it, stepping out and calling Al a cab back to Resembool. When he got back in was when all hell had broken loose. The call came in about a shooting at Xenotime Mall, the exact location of Mustang's scene. What made it worse was the fact that first responders reported a body at the scene of the crime, the head detective a few feet away from said body. Moments later, Mustang was on his way back to the station for interrogation and Fokker had pulled up to the station.

Ed was called in shortly after Breda.

"Edward Elric, correct?" Ed nodded. He wasn't going to let a loose tongue sink a fleet of ships. "You recently transferred here to East, or so your file says. I also see your first case here was with Roy Mustang. How's your working relationship with him?"

"Fine." Fokker frowned.

"So, if he were to ask you to take part in a secret sting, you would have no trouble complying."

"_You_ said that, not me."

"Then, prior to the day's events, were you aware of the operation Roy Mustang had begun."

"No, he made me believe my brother was kidnapped."

"Was he?" Ed sat back in his chair and folded his arms.

"No. He agreed to help willingly."

"So, you were not aware that Detective Mustang was planning to kill someone today?" Fokker asked as he continued to jot notes down on his papers.

"I don't think he was. I was told it was a plan to _catch_ a high-value target, not kill," Ed protested and Fokker paused to adjust his glasses and look at him. "Either way, I was not aware of the plan to begin with."

"Yes, that corroborates with the others' stories." Fokker went back to jotting down notes.

Ed looked at him a moment before stating boldly, "Roy Mustang isn't a murderer."

"That remains to be seen," Fokker replied. "You may go."

So, Ed left and rejoined the others. Forty minutes later, Mustang himself was called in for questioning. Both Hawkeye and Ed secretly snuck into the box to watch the interrogation…and that led them here. The two men continued to stare into each other's eyes. Fokker shifted around his papers without breaking eye contact. Finally, he spoke.

"You understand why you're here, Detective Mustang?" Ed surveyed Mustang, who looked completely calm and collected. It unnerved the forensics specialist. The head detective did not look like a man who had just killed someone. He looked like it was just another day at the office. No…it no longer unnerved him; it scared him. And judging by Hawkeye's body language, she felt the same.

"I shot and killed a man claiming to be a Detective Jealot, codename Envy, in self-defense," Mustang answered coolly.

"There are no witness stories to corroborate that." Fokker's steely eyes glinted, but Mustang remained impassive.

"He had a gun, and he threatened to kill civilians unless I handed my own over."

"True, the first responders reported two firearms," Fokker noted, finally breaking his gaze to take some notes. "Then, I suppose the real question is why you had a second gun on you."

"I was going into a dangerous situation. I wanted as much backup as possible," Mustang said with a small frown.

"So, are you saying that you did not plan to kill this Envy?"

"No. Our operation was set to ensnare a high-value target. Envy showed up as a proxy in his place." Mustang's scowl was starting to deepen and Ed felt himself starting to get the bigger picture.

"What led to your shooting of him then?"

"As I said, he threatened to kill civilians," Mustang answered before dropping the hammer, "and he claimed to be the man who killed Maes Hughes."

"So it was an act of revenge? Not justice? Not necessity?" Ed stole a glance at Fokker's face. Though the man's mouth was covered with his hand, Ed could almost see sympathy behind Fokker's eyes.

"I won't deny that revenge didn't cross my mind," Mustang defended, "but this man was clearly a sociopath who divulged information that I did not want nor asked for. I was worried that he would kill civilians anyway, and with my gun. I made a gut decision that he was too dangerous to the civilian population to be left alive."

Fokker nodded as he finished writing his notes. "Well, your story certainly seems to match up with what your subordinates have told me. Although, none of you specified your actual target."

"It's highly sensitive. The less people who know, the better." Fokker gave a short laugh.

"Yes, well, you have quite the loyal team." Fokker snapped his folder shut. "After hearing your story, I have concluded my investigation into this matter, as well as the matter of your investigation into Hughes' death. When my report arrives on your desk in three days time, you will find that my conclusion is that you acted heroically in the face of danger, and dutifully in the matter of an open investigation. Well done, Detective Mustang."

Fokker held his hand out and Mustang shook it as he stood. Before Fokker could say anymore, Mustang strode from the interrogation room. Ed and Hawkeye quickly repeated said actions and almost immediately met up with the head detective in the adjoining hallways.

"Sorry you got dragged into this, Fullmetal," he said as soon as he saw Ed.

"You're damn right you owe me an apology, you lying bastard!" Mustang only fixed his shirt collar at Ed's remonstration. "So…how did it feel? You know…to kill him?"

Mustang looked at him askance before saying, "It didn't change a thing." Ed's jaw dropped.

"You just shot the guy, and you're saying it doesn't mean anything?" Ed yelled at him as the three of them made their way towards Mustang's desk.

"Don't get me wrong, I took great satisfaction in shooting the bastard," Mustang clarified, leaning against his desk, "but this isn't over. Hughes' real killer is the one pulling the strings, the one who ordered Envy to kill Hughes: Bradley. I won't rest until he's behind bars or I have his head!" Ed gaped at him like a fish. He turned to Hawkeye, hoping for some support, but she just stood there with her arms folded and a frown on her lips.

"Mustang! Elric! My office!" cried the voice of Grumman before his door slammed shut. Ed and Mustang shared a glance before departing from Riza and entering the chief's office. As he closed the door, Ed saw Fokker approaching an abandoned Hawkeye. Then the door closed and the two men were cut off from the rest of the station. Grumman was pacing back and forth behind his desk as they stood at attention.

"What were you thinking, Roy? I taught you better than that!" Grumman snapped.

"Sir?" Mustang's face was drawn into one of confusion, though Ed knew it likely had nothing on his own face. Grumman stopped pacing and turned to face the two of them.

"Shooting a man in broad daylight? ! You still have a lesson to learn in subtlety," Grumman commented. "And you, Elric, you're equally guilty for partaking in these idiot schemes of his. I expected far better out of my head detective and a top forensics specialist. Your work has just been plain sloppy."

"I'm still afraid I don't quite get your meaning," Mustang said, causing the chief to frown.

"If you think you're going to catch Commissioner Bradley flailing around like this, then you've still got a lot to learn." Mustang's face didn't change, but Ed's wasn't quite so immovable and quickly registered shock. "Now, I've tried to let you have free reign on this, but carry on and I'll start thinking you actually _need_ my help."

"Sir, how did you-" Grumman waved his hand, effectively cutting off the head detective.

"Don't insult me, Roy. You really think I became Chief of the Eastern Police Force because I looked good?" admonished Grumman. "Now, I may not have known Hughes as well as the rest of you, but he was still an officer under my direct supervision and a fine detective. I want his killer caught as much as you do. I've been following your case quite closely."

Ed looked at the chief, the wheels turning in his head as he glanced at the older man. Finally, a conclusion clicked into place. "Wait a minute…that-that whole thing with the presidential gala…and me being put on the Chopper case. You knew-"

"Don't go crediting me for things beyond my control," Grumman countered. "However, yes, when I heard you were being transferred here, I checked your file. I gleaned your past, your motivations, and I knew that if both you and Roy worked together you could accomplish far more than Roy could alone. Look at the results; in just a little over two weeks you've come closer to catching Hughes' killer than ever."

"So you were purposely trying to push us together?" Roy asked bemusedly. Grumman chuckled.

"Since the start," he admitted. "I knew you two would make great partners.

"Now, both of you, I'm not one for doling out much advice, but I'll give you a bit. You won't be able to catch Bradley by laying all these plans; he's too smart for that. A plan or two is fine but only to get what you need. If you're going to get the son of a bitch, you need to _catch him in the act_. Put simply, find out what he's doing, when he's doing it and where, then nail the son of a bitch to the wall."

Ed and Mustang sat there silently for a moment before Mustang asked, "That all?"

"Yes, you two are free to go. Good luck." And Grumman paid them no more attention. The two younger men stood a moment longer and then slowly exited the room. Once they closed the doors, Mustang broke out into chuckles.

"That sly old fox!" he said under his breath. Ed looked at him in confusion.

"What are you talking about?"

"Grumman….he wants to be commissioner." Now Ed was really lost. Grumman had helped them, but Mustang was saying that it all came from an ambition to become commissioner. _Although_, he thought, _if we take down Bradley, it would leave the position open for a veteran officer_. Shaking the thought away, Ed began following Mustang back over to Hawkeye.

"How did it go, sir?" she questioned as soon as they were in normal earshot.

"Your grandfather's as wily as ever," he commented, and she nodded in assent. Ed merely shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Speaking of wily," Ed began, drawing the detectives' attention to him, "what did Fokker want with you?"

"He asked you to meet him at East's Subs and Eatery, sir," Hawkeye responded, handing a piece of paper to her former boss. Mustang unfolded it and Ed took a peek to see it only contained the address. The two men looked up to see Riza walking away.

"Where are you going?" Roy called out.

"I still have to go to work tomorrow…in Central, if you remember," she said, barely turning her head back to them. "Try not to bungle too much without me."

"Whatever…" Riza rounded the corner a second later and was gone. "Well, what do you think?"

"Why are you asking me?" Ed snapped. Mustang glared at him, but Ed glared back; fatigue and annoyance were getting the better of him. "Why don't you ask Breda or Feury…oh, how about the un-injured Detective Havoc?"

"What? You're still mad about that?" Ed folded his arms to emphasize his point. "Okay, fine…sorry for tricking you. Are we good?"

"Would be if you meant it, asshole," Ed snarled. "Don't you ever leave me to the wolves again."

"Fine, now can we go see what Fokker wants?" Ed responded to him by pushing past him, towards the exit of the station.

"Hurry it up, dumbass!" he yelled back and, congratulating himself on his insult, turned out of the station. Mustang caught up shortly after and the two walked silently a few blocks before they reached East's Subs and Eatery, its door opening with a jingle. It then took all of five seconds to locate Fokker.

"Detective, Mister Elric!" he called, waving them over. The two approached and joined him in his booth. "Can I get you something? The subs here are fantastic."

"Not hungry," Roy declined curtly. Fokker just shrugged and finished eating his meatball sub. Ed felt his stomach gurgle (he hadn't eaten anything since yesterday), but managed to suppress it before he got any dirty looks. "Is there a reason you wanted to meet?"

Fokker cleared his throat before asking, "What kind of quarry are you chasing, Roy?"

As if in response to the man using his first name, both of them sat straight up. Ed shared a quick look with Mustang. In that moment, Ed appreciated for the first time the fact that they were partners. The fact that both of them could communicate to not say a single word without saying so was beneficial. "What are you talking about, Fokker?"

"Don't bullshit me," Fokker commanded, his glasses flashing menacingly. "I was called in to look into your investigation, and I did that job, but I'm no idiot. You people have the impression that we at IA get our jollies from landing cops, but don't forget that we were cops too. I know when I'm leading a witch hunt, not an investigation.

"A witch hunt?" Ed asked, his eyebrow raised. Fokker took a drink of his soda before responding.

"An investigation into a fellow cop's death shouldn't be called under the scrutiny of IA, not unless the cop was dirty. Maes Hughes was clean as a whistle, so I know that's not it. Someone didn't want you looking into that case, so they sent me to stop it. Now, the obvious answer is that it's someone high up in the department, but I can't know how high."

"I thought you don't get your jollies from taking down cops?" Roy said sardonically.

"I'm still ambitious. It's no secret I hope to make D.A. one day, and exposing corruption is the best way to do that," Fokker elaborated. Still, neither of the young men opted to say anything. "Look, I'm ambitious, but I'm not stupid. I could have wrapped my investigation ages ago but I waited because I knew you were narrowing in on a target. Today's actions proved you had a suspect, and I can help you catch him. I return to Central in the morning, and I'm offering you an allegiance. You know I can get information that you as a normal cop could never get easily. I just need a name."

Fokker seemed to finish presenting his case, but there was still no movement from Mustang. Ed wondered whether they should accept it, but knew it was difficult to not tip their hand as long as Fokker was sitting across from them. As if sensing this, Fokker stood and left to refill his drink. "Should we trust him?"

"Don't see the harm in it…" Ed said, folding his arms. Mustang looked at him inquisitively. "I'm not saying to tell him _everything_, only an idiot would do that. So look at it this way: if he's on Bradley's payroll, he'll know that we know all this anyway. On the other hand, if he doesn't know, then we may just gain another ally to take him down."

"Well put," Roy commented as Fokker returned to them. A gulp of soda and a beckoning look later, the head detective gave a response. "King Bradley." As expected, Fokker nearly dropped his soda.

"_C-commissioner_ King Bradley?" Both Ed and Mustang nodded. "Well…I knew you were angling a big fish, but not this big."

"Still looking for an allegiance?" Mustang questioned with a smirk.

"More than ever," Fokker replied with an eerily similar smirk. "How many times do I have to tell you, Mustang? I want to become D.A. Now you just presented me a fast track into the election next November."

"So you'll help?" Ed blurted out. Fokker's smirk changed into a smile as he stood.

"Yes. If there's evidence of corruption in King Bradley's office I will expose it. You can count on that."

"Why are you helping us really?" Roy asked.

"Put simply, Maes Hughes was a good man. We once offered him a job in IA, but he turned it down. I don't want to see a man like Bradley get away with his murder," Fokker admitted, slipping his coat on. "I'll do what I can, you just be careful in your own investigation."

"That goes double for you," Roy countered and Fokker accepted the advice with a nod. Then he was gone with a jingle. "I hope we made the right move."

"Of course we did," Ed boasted confidently, "because now Fokker's with you instead of against you. Now buy me a sub. I've got no money and I'm famished."

* * *

><p>"You're kidding, right?" Ed asked, the waffle he was about to eat nearly in his mouth. His wife, meanwhile, stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring vehemently. While she certainly wasn't <em>showing<em> that she was pregnant, her mood swings were a near constant reminder.

"Does my face look like I'm kidding?" Winry deadpanned, causing Ed's swallowing to become more of a gulping.

"Considering it's the face you wear when I damage your automail…no," Ed responded. "Look, I haven't spent a solid night, or day for that matter, at home in ages."

"That's your own fault, Ed. You're the one spending more time with your pal Mustang than you are with me!" Ed stared at her, absolutely flabbergasted. He knew she was right, but really didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

"Yeah, well…you lied to me on Mustang's orders, too! We're even!" If eyes could narrow any further, Winry's would be slits.

"Wow…real mature, Ed," she shot back at him. "Mei is going to become a part of our family, your sister-in-law, and Ling will be a part of that too. The least you could do is go to this damn gala."

"Winry…honey," he said with a grimace, "if you remember the last gala, someone got shot."

"They've beefed up security this time." Ed considered her for a moment and realized she wasn't going to budge.

"Fine, I'll see what I can do. But I'm not willing to put you in danger simply because they'll be family," Ed conceded. Winry nodded emphatically as the phone began to ring.

"Oh, look, Detective Mustang," Winry announced with mock surprise. "Ed, if I wasn't completely sure of your sexuality, I'd almost think you were having an affair." She tossed the phone to him and strode angrily from the room. Ed shuddered at the thought, scowled at her exit, and answered the call.

"What do you want, bastard?" he said angrily, but Mustang hardly seemed fazed.

"Not now, Fullmetal; we have a problem," Mustang quickly told him.

"Come on! You can't handle it without me? Are you really that useless?" complained Ed. Having no time on his hands was really starting to get to him. _Then again, I did choose to help_.

"Shut up, Ed!" Something in Mustang's voice told the young man his partner was more annoyed than angry. "Get down to the East Grand, right now."

"You do realize I'm on suspension still?"

"I don't care. Raven's been murdered." Ed nearly dropped the phone in surprise. Raven was their key suspect in exposing Bradley. He had been their number one corrupt cop, but now he was dead?

"Be there in half an hour." After a chaste kiss to an annoyed Winry, Ed left and arrived at the East Grand exactly when he said he would. Mustang brought him in and immediately started going over the details.

"The maid found him this morning when she went to clean the room," he quickly explained to Ed. "Knox says he's been dead since yesterday afternoon."

"I thought you had Armstrong watching the place," Ed remarked and Mustang frowned at the mention.

"I did, but unfortunately my little stunt at the mall caused enough distraction that even the 'surveillance techniques passed down the Armstrong family for generations' allowed someone to slip through the net. We questioned the hotel staff who said they saw a suspicious looking man in a white hoodie go up to meet Raven, but they didn't get his face."

"They didn't want Raven talking," Ed confirmed as the two of them entered the crime scene. The room was practically sparkling, save for the dead body lying in the room. There were two shots on his body: his chest and his head. Clearly the killer had wanted to make this quick. "He was shot, huh?"

"Yeah, .45 caliber according to Knox." Ed whipped around in surprise. "Well, we figured that it would have to be another cop, and they didn't have time to plan the murder because my plan didn't give them the time to."

"But to be so sloppy as to use a .45?" Ed questioned. "No, it may have been impulsive, but if we know Bradley, the gun won't trace back to a cop. It could be traced back to a victim, though."

"Wait, you don't think-"

"That's exactly what I think," Ed informed him. "A .45 was used in that murder, too. We know that person, that killer, was a corrupt cop who worked for Homunculus. They don't want it getting out, so they seal the records, kill the cop investigating. No one thinks twice about it. The killer keeps the gun though, so it can't be traced to him. He doesn't have time to dispose of Raven like he normally does, so he uses the old gun."

"If we can link it back to that case, we can find that cop!" Mustang exclaimed. "I'll get them to run ballistics."

"Actually, let me," Ed told him with a smirk. "I may be suspended, but I have a few friends." Mustang readily agreed and the two partners headed straight for the station once more. They wasted no time in heading down to see Doctor Marcoh.

"Let me get this straight," Marcoh said, "you want me to run ballistics to see it it's a match to a previous case, but you don't want me to log it in just yet?"

"That would be helpful," Mustang clarified. Marcoh gave a tired sigh.

"I don't know what you're up to, but I trust Edward," agreed Marcoh, taking the evidence bag from the head detective. "I'll have the results in an hour." Marcoh quickly took his leave into the back room. Ed, not wanting to leave the results alone for even a second, sat down at his desk.

"What are you thinking, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked as Ed began to tap his chin.

"Connecting the dots…" he mused out loud. "I'm almost certain the ballistics report will come up with a match to Scar's brother. That means the killer definitely works for Homunculus Corp. But it also means we were wrong."

"Not necessarily," Mustang replied, leaning against the wall casually. "Raven was definitely involved, but he was more of a mouthpiece. He wasn't an enforcer; that was left to people like Envy…and whoever did this."

"That just makes it stranger. If Envy was one of their top enforcers, why send him to talk with you and not a mouthpiece like Raven? Or, if they didn't want to send someone like Raven, why send Envy, who's more into killing than talking. Talk about standing in the line of fire."

"Because Envy wasn't their top enforcer," Mustang reasoned, a look of dawning comprehension on his face. "Sure, he was a sadistic bastard, but he made no secret about Raven being one of theirs. That's because they knew they had to eliminate Raven. As soon as my plans became a threat to that, they sent their top enforcer _to kill Raven_."

Ed allowed Mustang's words to sink in. It made sense. Someone as cunning as Bradley wouldn't risk his best piece to tackle a pawn. No, but…he would if Ed was about to spill his secrets. That would be far more of a threat than an inconsequential cop. After all, he was the son of the University President. Now it was Ed's turn for a plan to form in his head, and since Mustang wasn't saying anything more, the plan continued to develop itself. An hour later, Marcoh returned with the ballistics report.

"You were right, Fullmetal," Mustang told Ed as he flipped through the report. "Perfect match to the murder of Scar's brother. We've got him."

"Not quite," Ed mumbled, flipping through the report himself. "It's hard to believe that he wouldn't know about this connection."

"Who?" Ed continued to stare at the piece of paper in his hand, despite Mustang's question. He needed to confirm it. He needed to know that the man inside East PD was definitely the one who had killed Scar's brother. Otherwise, they'd never get anywhere.

"Mustang, I need to visit Scar."

* * *

><p>The doors to the visiting area buzzed open and Ed sat up straight. Through the door came the cuffed and tattooed Ishvalan. Rage coursed through Ed's veins for a moment but he restrained it. Everything hinged upon Scar's answers; he couldn't let his anger prevent that. Scar finally reached the table and sat, the guards chaining him to the table. Mustang tensed next to him but said nothing. It was a full minute before Scar spoke.<p>

"I thought you had already asked all your questions," Scar said sourly.

"At the time," Ed responded through gritted teeth. "This time, I want the full truth."

"Last I checked-"

"Don't you fuck with me, Scar!" Ed yelled and Mustang shot him a warning look. He took a deep breath and slid the folder containing the ballistics report across the table. "Don't try to tell me you had no idea who was behind your brother's death."

"I don't," Scar said unflinchingly. He looked at the file before him without blinking. "What's this?"

"A ballistics report saying that the man who killed your brother killed a detective named Raven. Are you telling me you've never heard that name? Or how about Isaac McDougal?" Scar continued to stare at Ed. "Tell me, why were you really at that gala in Central?"

Scar seemed to consider him for a time before sighing deeply. "I once knew a man who owed me a life debt. His name was Yoki, former mayor of Youswell, brought up on corruption charges."

"I know the case, Hughes arrested him," Mustang clarified.

"Anyway, the man was an idiot, but he was useful," Scar explained. "Since Youswell never had a station of its own, it got most of its officers from Ishval. Likewise, Yoki could get whatever information he wanted from Ishval. A few months after my first bombing, he got me a dossier on a number of officers from Ishval. I spent years tying the information together. Eventually I found that the detective investigating my brother's case was killed the same way. He was found in Central. I put two and two together."

"You weren't there to find your next mark, were you?" Ed questioned. You already had a mark in mind. Mustang just became a mark of convenience. So who was it?"

"The man who would tell me everything. But that shot was fired before I could get to him."

"But who was your target? !" Scar paused a moment and Ed could see him contemplating the situation. Then, without taking a breath, he answered.

"The man who had my brother killed: King Bradley." Ed's scowl turned into a smirk. "I think I'm done here. If you want to know anything else, find it out on your own." Neither Ed nor Mustang said anything as Scar was then taken away from them. A few minutes later and the pair was outside.

"You mind telling me what the point of that was, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked as they got in his car. "He didn't tell us anything we didn't know."

"No, but now we have proof," Ed retorted.

"Proof doesn't do us any good if we can't catch the man!"

"How did you even make _detective_?" Ed snapped. "Now we know for sure that Bradley is the one behind the deaths of both Isaac McDougal and Scar's brother. We also know that same person killed Raven and is likely the top enforcer of Homunculus Corp."

"Yes," Roy conceded, "but how does that help us?"

"Before Bradley released me, he told me that if I threatened to expose him, he would send his best guy after me. So we bait a trap that allows us to capture this guy and find out how to catch Bradley in the act."

"Using yourself as bait…It's a good plan, but how do we convey it to Bradley without him suspecting it's a trap?"

Ed turned in his seat to grin at him. "Oh, that part's easy. Tomorrow, we're going to visit Hohenheim."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: Once again, the delay here was unbearable, but I always knew it would be a tricky chapter. On that note, however, the last bunch of chapters I WILL release quickly. I've already begun work on Chapter 21 and it will be posted in two weeks. On another note, I have a new poll to vote on which I would <strong>_**really**_** like your feedback on. Also related, I have finally broken 100 favorites! I have to thank everybody for liking this story that I've worked so hard on. We're not through yet so I hope you'll continue to drop reviews on this story until the end. So, for the next two weeks, review and Dare to Be Silly.**


	21. Chapter 21

**I find that I usually bring Al in eating something…maybe it's because he never eats anything in the manga. Anyway, here we go with Chapter 21!**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 21<span>

"Are you sure about this, Edward?" Hohenheim's brow was creased as he asked the question. Roy stood near the back of the room, surveying the scene between father and son with some interest. Ed, on the other hand, was standing across from his father with his arms folded.

"Would I be asking you if I wasn't?" Ed snapped back irritably. Hohenheim sighed faintly, shuffling papers on his desk.

"What you're asking is quite dangerous," he said quietly. Ed scoffed loudly.

"You just need to say a few things; it's not a big d-"

"I meant that it's dangerous for you." Ed snapped his mouth shut. "Edward, you're asking me to lie to the commissioner of the police force by telling him that you have an interview planned that will expose him as a criminal. Not only that, but you are fully intending to use yourself as bait. I know I haven't been much of a father, but I would never want to deliberately put you in harm's way."

"There's nothing to worry about. This plan will be fine," Ed protested loudly. "Look, I'll be at a motel in South City where I'll be hiding out, and teacher has already promised she'll be on watch at the university. When we're together, there's no ass we can't kick."

"Don't worry, sir. Myself and my four closest men will be there the whole time, keeping an eye out. We'll be armed and if there is the first sign of danger we _will_ jump on it," consoled Mustang. Hohenheim sat back a moment and proceeded to clean his glasses. There was a definite tension in the sir that still hadn't resolved itself when Ed's father put his glasses back on.

"All right then, I'll do it tonight," he agreed and Roy breathed in relief. "I have my monthly poker game with him and a few others. I'll be sure to let it slip."

"Just don't let on that you know the truth," Ed grumbled out begrudgingly.

"I'm the president of the University of Amestris, I think I know how to keep a façade up." Roy strode forward at this moment and handed Hohenheim a pin.

"Wear this on you tonight. There's a small wire in it that will transmit back to our receiver," Mustang told him. We want to make sure that everything goes smoothly."

"I understand," he replied, taking the pin and affixing it to his tie. "Edward, I know you'll be fine, but just be careful, okay?"

Ed frowned at him before yelling out, "Stop worrying so much! I'm not a little kid, dad!" Roy's eyebrow instantly sprang up, but the other two seemed to act like nothing had changed. Perhaps, in their minds, nothing had. Hohenheim merely gave a dismissive smile and went back to his paperwork. Ed's face tightened slightly, but it didn't stop him from exiting the room. Roy quickly caught up with him.

"Well…that was…er, emotional."

"It's a start," Ed mumbled, and the head detective chose not to push the issue further. Instead, the two pushed open the double doors on their way to Roy's car.

"Yeah, well, right now I'm just hoping that Bradley doesn't look too closely into our cover story." Ed tried to throw him a scathing look, but Roy cut him off. "I know, we've forced him into a situation where he can't look into it without incriminating himself, but it still worries me." They had finally reached the car.

"Of course it's dangerous," Ed said. "It's been dangerous since the beginning. The only difference between now and then is that now we know who the enemy is, whereas we didn't before."

"That's true," Roy sighed out in response. "Still, I'm hoping this goes fine, and that it doesn't blow back on your dad."

"He'll be fine," Ed said dismissively. "Right now, the ones we need to focus on are ourselves. When we get back to East City, you need to go back to the station."

"Keep up appearances, right?" Roy confirmed and Ed nodded. "We don't want them to think anything is off. Once your father sets the bait tonight, you'll head to the site."

"Yep. I'll be staying at the Southern Dreams Motel," Ed explained with a scowl. Roy restrained himself from laughing as it became readily obvious that the young forensics specialist was likely imagining all the dirty scenes he would possibly have to endure while he waited there. Regardless, the head detective knew he had to continue explaining the plan so that Ed would feel confident that he knew it.

"I'll send Armstrong along to help you set everything up, and for you to have a negotiator in case South PD shows up. Archer's not exactly the most amiable guy when it comes to jurisdiction, and there's only so much Grumman can do."

"The rest of you will leave when your shift is up, one by one, and go to the motel," Ed continued. "I should be fine either way because Bradley's man inside East wouldn't risk his concealment to take the day off and kill me. He'll have to wait until his shift is up as well."

"He'll come hunt you down at the motel, where we'll be waiting to capture him. We'll make him talk and tell us what Bradley's up to." Ed shrugged at Mustang's concluding words. He seemed to think the plan was going to be incredibly easy. Mustang, on the other hand, knew quite differently. This entire case had been roadblock after roadblock until Ed came along. Even when he did, it was still slow going. Were this any other case, Mustang would have already caught the perpetrator. Here they had to tread carefully, partially because they could only trust a select few people, but also because the suspect was the one man who had their lives in his hands. He was connected, and he was vicious. They had to go slowly and deliberately, and overconfidence would only make them easy targets to be duped. Envy proved that.

Regardless, Roy didn't caution Ed at all on the way back to East City. It was his job to protect the young man, so warning him about the dangers would be pointless. Finally, their trip back ended. Ed immediately jumped cars and headed home; he _was_ still on suspension after all. Roy, meanwhile, went back into the station in order to do whatever case work and paperwork needed to be done. He didn't anticipate the deluge of it. The loss of his partner, whether he had been an enemy or not, made itself very apparent that day. All of the paperwork fell on him and he cursed the fact that he couldn't even push it on his subordinates, all of whom were out running cases that day.

The point was that by five o'clock that day, Mustang felt his mind was partially fried and that he was most certainly nursing a carpal tunnel. Nevertheless, he still kept his wits about him as he began the drive to Resembool. As he drove, he became more cautious and took winding curves and side streets all for the intention of making sure he wasn't followed. Shortly after six, he had finally arrived in the town limits of Resembool. Then his phone rang, with the single name "Riza" flashing.

"Hey, what's up?" Mustang asked, answering the call.

"Breda called me," Riza responded. "He told me all about your plan tomorrow night."

"Yeah, sorry we couldn't really think of a way to get you involved in it," Roy apologized. Riza chuckled a little bit over the phone.

"It's fine. It would be more than suspicious if all of us head to the same place anyway," she said and Roy felt himself nodding, even though she wasn't there. "Do you think it will work, sir?"

"Hard to say…Ed's plans generally work, but I'm starting to worry if we're getting a little ambitious."

"Well, I couldn't tell you if Bradley suspects you're doing anything. He hardly even visits the station since you confronted him, granted that it has just been two work days."

"Hard to believe it was just last Friday that we confronted him. So much has happened." Riza seemed to hum in assent on the other line. "By the way, was that all you were calling me for?"

"No, Fokker asked me to call you."

"He's found something?" Roy asked, his insides clenching in anticipation, longing for answers.

"Not really, but he did say that he managed to get a judge to sign off on a warrant to look into Homunculus Corp's financials." Mustang's brow furrowed.

"I never told him about Bradley's connection to Homunculus Corp…" There was silence on the other end, and Mustang grew skeptical. "Hawkeye…"

"I may have let slip a word or two…but nothing damaging. I'm not so careless, sir."

"I know, thank you," he said. "Well, that's good. He may be able to connect Homunculus Corp to Bradley. That combined with Lust's testimony is a lock. Now all we need is for Fullmetal's plan to work."

"Well, I'll be here in Central. If you need me at any time, sir…" She didn't even need to finish for Roy to get the message.

"I know. Anyway," he said as he pulled into the Elric's driveway. "I'm at the Elric's, so I've got to go."

"Roy, be careful." Taking that as a goodbye, both ended the call. Roy parked his car and proceeded up the steps to knock on the door, a bag swinging from his hand. Alphonse opened it, half a biscuit in his hand.

"Good to see you, Detective Mustang," he greeted tremulously. Roy gave him a confused look as he stepped in. "Um…might want to avoid the living room for now. Ed and Winry are going at it."

It took only one step to prove Al's point.

"I'm saying that you're being stupid again, Ed!" screeched Winry from the living room.

"Again? ! What the hell does that mean, Winry?" Roy saw Al motion to follow him into the kitchen. Doing so did nothing to muffle the yelling.

"You know exactly what I mean!"

"I don't understand half of what you're saying since your damn mood swings started kicking in."

"Then let me spell it out for you, Edward," Winry's voice had turned colder and both Roy and Alphonse visibly shuddered at the iciness. "You are on suspension, and in all the time that you've been off work, you have not spent a single day at home."

"Yes, you made that quite plain yesterday morning," Ed said dully. "Your arguments are just going in a circle now."

"I'm starting to think you should have stayed working at Central! At least then, you were home for two days a week."

"How is this my fault? I'm only doing this to help Mustang out!" Winry screamed loudly as a crash resonated from the living room.

"Mustang! Mustang! Mustang! That's all you talk about lately! I'm your fucking _wife_, Ed, and I'm going to be the mother of _your_ child, but if you'd rather play police with Roy Mustang then be a family with me, go ahead! I was fine without you in Rush Valley and I could cope now." Stunned silence followed as Ed seemed to be trying to pull himself together. Roy looked at Al, whose biscuit was forgotten, his mouth wide and gaping; it was pretty obvious that Winry didn't swear often.

"Should I intervene?" he asked tentatively. Al recovered, only to shake his head.

"No, I tried to intervene when they first started, but Winry looked ready to rip my head off," he told the head detective. Roy gulped as Ed appeared to regain his bearings in the other room.

"Winry, what's this really about?" Ed asked her softly and slowly. Winry took a moment to respond.

"You…and me," she said almost as softly as Ed. "What do you think this is about?"

"Look, if you're still on about the gala-"

"I could care less about the gala," Winry muttered. "I've know our whole lives that you couldn't stand things like that. Heh, I was surprised you even got through our wedding."

"Then what is it?" A deep intake of breath was heard before the answer.

"I don't like this," she answered. "I don't like you running around trying to catch a killer. Every time you walk out that door, every morning, I worry whether or not I'll see you come home in your car or in a coffin. I know it probably makes me sound needy and emotional but…I love you, Ed. It would kill me if you died because you were helping someone in danger when it doesn't concern you."

"Winry, I-"

"Just…don't make me worry so much, Ed," she concluded, and her footsteps were heard receding from the room. The lack of Ed's footsteps told Roy that his younger partner was staying still a moment longer. Al seemed to recover from the yelling first.

"So, how've you been, Detective Mustang?" he asked, sitting down at the table.

"Uh…fine, just fine. Yourself?"

"Can't complain. Ed told me you guys visited our father this morning?" Roy nodded. "It's a miracle those two didn't get into a fight over something stupid."

"Yeah," he chuckled out in response. "Winry mentioned a gala?"

"Oh, right, tomorrow night. We were all supposed to go together to support Ling, but then Ed's plan changed that. So, now it's just me, Mei and Winry."

"I'm surprised their even having another one, considering what happened last time."

"Ling told me that Princess Elena insisted on it to show she wasn't afraid or something like that," Al explained to the detective. "Apparently they outsourced to a security company for more support."

"Sounds…secure," Roy commented and the two started laughing. Of course, they immediately stopped as Winry walked in the room, her eyes red and blotchy. She gave a sharp nod to Roy as she walked to the stove. Al sat there uncomfortably for a moment before slowly edging out of the room.

"Can-can I get you anything, Detective?" Winry choked out. Roy couldn't quite formulate a response and opted for shaking his head. After a few more seconds of unbearable silence, Roy finally decided to speak up.

"Mrs. Elric-" he began.

"Winry…just call me Winry," she said, smiling at him a little. "You're practically family now, anyway."

"All right…Winry, I'm sorry." She turned around completely, looking at him with shock. "I didn't mean to pull Ed away from the two of you, and it pains me to see such a pretty girl crying because of me."

"You're a terrible flirt, Mr. Mustang; don't you realize I'm married?" she giggled out.

"Of course, and Fullmetal's lucky to have you," he said sincerely. Maybe it had been her comment about family that made him be surprisingly kind. He wasn't quite sure. Either way, it had been far too long since someone had called him part of their family. "Winry, I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep Ed safe. I'll protect him."

Winry continued to stare at him a moment before meekly muttering, "Thank you." Roy took the silence that followed as a cue to meet up with Ed in the living room. Ed, himself, was sitting on his couch, his head in his hands, as if in contemplation. Only the sound of Roy clearing his throat caused him to realize the head detective's presence.

"Oh…Mustang, when did you get here?" he asked absentmindedly and Roy took sympathy on the man.

"A while ago. I was chatting with your brother," Roy answered. Ed looked mortified but Roy decided to act as though he hadn't heard the entire blow-up. Ed took a deep breath to recompose himself before turning back to Mustang.

"You remembered the receiver?" he asked as Roy joined him on the couch. The older man placed the bag he had been holding the entire time on the coffee table, and Ed immediately dove into it. From its portents he pulled a radio and went straight to tuning. "Dad says their poker game starts at seven, so we still have a bit to wait."

"Who knows how long it will be before your father can say anything to Bradley, anyway," Mustang commented as Al came back in the room, his coat on his shoulders.

"Are you going out, Al?" Ed asked as his younger brother fitted his arms into the coat sleeves.

"Mei just called," he answered. "She wants to go over wedding stuff _and_ my doctorate presentation. Besides, I don't want to get involved with your work. That way, you won't have to worry about me."

"Geez, Al, sometimes I feel like you could have been born a girl," Ed laughed out. "You're way too kind and sensitive for a guy sometimes."

"Yeah, well, you could learn a thing or two."

It took Ed a moment to recover, finally yelling a "Sh-shut up, Al!" just as the younger brother was leaving. Only the closing of the door was heard in response. Mustang scratched his head as Ed turned back to him. "Want to play some poker?"

So, that was how they passed the time. It would have almost been incredibly dull had the two men not been compulsive winners. Their own poker game, likely not even close to mirroring the one they were listening in on, was intense and inflamed. Said fires only got worse when Winry joined them with a delicious pizza. Still, the two men remained vigilant as soon as the sounds of Hohenheim's poker game came through the receiver. For quite a while, the three continued to play their own impassioned version of poker while the dull sounds of the other high stakes game flitted over them.

It was about half past eight that anything of interest started to happen. Bradley was the first to speak.

"So, how have your boys been doing, Van?" questioned the commissioner. "I've been seeing a lot of Edward lately, but how's your other son been?"

"Hard at work," chortled Hohenheim. "He's busy preparing for his doctoral presentation, so that's probably rather time consuming. On top of that, he's busy planning for his wedding next spring."

"Quite young for marriage, isn't it?" Bradley asked. "Well, I guess it's lucky that both of your boys found love at such a young age."

"Oh, yes…although, I haven't been involved in much of Edward's life. I hardly even knew he had gotten married!" Both of the older men seemed to find this incredibly amusing.

"So, are you going to the gala tomorrow?"

"Of course!" Hohenheim affirmed. "Prestigious men like us are practically required to go."

"That's true. What about your sons? I ran into Edward at the last one," Bradley said and both Mustang and Ed leaned in toward the receiver.

"I know Alphonse is coming, but when I asked Edward he told me the strangest thing." Roy was breathing in short bursts now. "He said that he didn't want to go because he had an interview with a television reporter first thing the next morning."

"What about?" A clinking was heard over the receiver as it seemed Hohenheim was getting a drink.

"Something about corruption in the police department that went high up in the command chain, or some other nonsense. I told him he was being ridiculous, but he insisted on hiding out in the Southern Dreams Motel tomorrow night, anyway."

"Hmm…this is the first I've heard about it," Bradley commented, and much to their relief, his voice was full of tension.

"I'm surprised he even told me. Supposedly, it was meant to be some big secret," Hohenheim laughed out. "Now are we going to play poker or what?" After that, no more conversation of note was heard. Ed smirked widely.

"The bait is set."

"Whatever, Ed, can we play now?" Winry huffed across the table.

"In a rush to lose, Winry? We all know you have a horrible poker face."

"Just try me, short stuff." Roy cracked a laugh.

"That's it! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

X X X

The next morning, Roy entered the police station to witness a near unprecedented flurry of activity. He had hardly sat at his desk when Havoc came up to him and leaned casually.

"Whole station's in an uproar about it," he commented casually. Mustang calmly placed his things on his desk.

"What are you talking about, Havoc?" he asked and Havoc gave him a coy smirk.

"I guess some people found out that Ed's going on a television interview."

"News travels fast. Armstrong!" The larger man seemed to hear Mustang's call, because moments later he was at the head detective's desk. "I need you to run a lead on a case."

"Of course, sir," Armstrong said softly and he promptly walked away. Mustang propped his head against his fist, a wide smirk stretching his face. _Now everything's in place._

"How's your leg, Havoc?"

"It's good. I went to the doctor yesterday and he said the wound should be fully healed in a day or two," Havoc responded.

"Will you be ready for tonight?" Havoc looked to his boss, whose eyes flashed towards him. Havoc scoffed.

"Why wouldn't I be? Are you, boss?" Then Havoc left the head detective to himself.

The rest of the day passed much like the day before had: Mustang sat at his desk practically all day doing paperwork. There was only one call the entire day which had been for a jewelry store heist. It hadn't been hard to figure out that the store's assistant manager had been behind it. Then he had to file the paperwork for that. He _hated_ paperwork.

As the clock inched toward the end of their shifts, Mustang saw Feury leave for the day. Then Breda and Havoc left, with Havoc going on about something, likely pontificating about Rebecca. Soon after, Roy packed up his stuff and set out. Just to be safe, he made it look as though he were heading home before diverting and heading for the highway. He arrived in South City in a little under an hour, parking two blocks away from the motel. His men were already there when he arrived.

"Is everything set?" he asked Armstrong.

"Edward's in the room watching television, but he's on alert. I've also arranged it with the motel's owner to monitor the security cameras," Armstrong informed him.

"All right, then. Feury, you're on camera detail. The rest of us should take up positions near enough to watch the door, but far enough away that we won't be seen. Have your weapons ready; we have no idea how dangerous this guy is."

"What should I look for on the cameras?" questioned Feury.

"The hotel staff at the East Grand mentioned a man in a white hoodie. I'd presume he'll use that disguise again. Now let's go."

Feury departed immediately, heading in the direction that Armstrong had indicated. Meanwhile, the other four split up. Armstrong decided to keep post on the second floor on the reason that he would be less visible that way. Mustang couldn't agree more. Mustang himself took to crouching behind a bunch of bushes outside Room 503, the room Ed was staying in. Havoc took a position around the corner while Breda watched the parking lot from a distance. Then, they began to wait. He knew that each of his men was waiting on tenterhooks, himself included. Ed's plan was good; there was no doubt about that. However, there was still no guarantee the guy would show. Mustang checked his watch. It was a quarter to seven now.

A funny thought entered his head about how at this very moment, Winry would be heading towards the gala, likely looking awkward without her husband. Suddenly, Mustang's phone vibrated and he took it out to see a text from Feury: _Left side, man in white hoodie_. The head detective's neck snapped up and he saw his team checking their phones. All at once, and without saying a word, they dashed away from their posts, barreling towards the opposite side of the hotel. Breda got there first, spotting the target and tackling him viciously to the ground.

"Hey, what the hell, man? !" cried the man as Breda ripped his hoodie back. To their surprise, the man was unrecognizable. Not a single one of the detectives had seen him before. Mustang took a step forward.

"Why are you here?" he asked frigidly. The man gulped.

"Some dude came up to me and offered me this hoodie and some money if I wore it and bought from that vending machine."

"Who? Why?"

"Like I know, man!" The man was exasperated by now, but Mustang's yearning for answers would not be denied. "Some crazy dude. Wore a white suit and a top hat, crazy eyes. Oh, and the dude had a gun so I wasn't about to mess with him."

"A decoy!" Mustang yelled and all four immediately backtracked. They had been duped by the previous disguise, and now Ed's life hung in the balance. A crash resounded from where they had left and Roy picked up speed. In seconds, he came in view of the door. Not wasting a moment, he dove in and saw the man assailing Ed, the broken television set having fallen near his feet. Mustang quickly aimed his gun and fired, nailing the man in the shoulder. Almost instantly, Armstrong came charging in, slamming into the man's stomach. The punch sent him against the wall and Ed moved out of the way as Havoc and Breda came in to cuff him and throw him on a chair.

The man's black hair was draped over his face, his hat slipping to cover his eyes, but still Mustang felt that there was something familiar about him. The detective quickly took the hat off and brusquely brushed the hair aside, finally getting him a look at the killer's face. "Solf J. Kimblee."

"Well, if it isn't Roy Mustang. What an unexpected surprise!" Kimble laughed out. Mustang scowled at the deranged detective.

"You're the dirty cop from Ishval. You're Bradley's best man?" Mustang questioned but Kimblee only smiled as a response. "Why? You killed Scar's brother. I want to know why!"

"He found out too much," Kimblee answered with a shrug. "You see…I was always working for Homunculus Corp. Bradley could see my _potential_. I didn't do too many jobs back in the day but I still had a few. They were fun, really…that was back when they were simple."

"You're psychotic," Ed blurted out. This made Kimblee laugh.

"Oh, believe me, I know…but those psych evals are way too easy to pass as long as you _know_ that you're crazy. That Ishvalan psychologist though, he wasn't convinced and wanted to see me for extra sessions." Kimblee sighed here, his eyes lighting up theatrically. "I obliged him, but I let slip a little too much one day and knew he had to be eliminated."

"You knew…the day of that bombing," Mustang spat, his face drawn in anger. "You knew why it was happening."

"It was only too easy to figure out. Plus, it showed that my work was sloppy, so I killed McDougal to cover it up. It's a rush, doing things like that. When your life, your very soul, is on the line, killing can feel so liberating! Bradley knew it too, so he had me transferred to avoid showing favoritism."

"What about Raven?"

Kimblee chuckled. "Had to do it, the blabbering old man. We knew you were up to something, and we knew Raven would talk, so Envy went to stall you while I killed Raven. We were obviously very sloppy…especially if I fell for a trap like this." Mustang continued looking into Kimblee's crazed eyes as a question came to his mind.

"If you're working for Homunculus Corp, why are you telling me this?" Kimblee cocked an eyebrow.

"Because I'm not in it for the cash. I could care less if Homunculus wins as long as I make full use of my talents," Kimblee answered offhandedly. "Not to mention, I am interested in which side wins if they're both on equal footing."

"Then tell me: what is Bradley up to and why?" Mustang demanded. Kimblee grinned widely.

"Oh, I can't tell you why, simply because I don't know. I will tell you what he's up to, though." Kimblee then cleared his throat before announcing, "Bradley's going to assassinate the president of Xing tonight."

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Cliffhanger! And, a I kept my promise this time, you can expect the resolution to said cliffhanger in two weeks. I'm already halfway done with the chapter so…yeah. On a different note, thanks to those who voted in my poll thus far, I'll leave it up a little longer. Funnily enough, most of you said you wanted to wait for the story to end before you made a decision so I look forward to hearing your decision in a review when I post the final chapter. In the meantime, please review and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**This is truly a week for thanks. Partially because it's Thanksgiving, but mostly because I'm posting this chapter. I'm joking, of course. Chapter 22 starts now.**

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><p><span>Chapter 22<span>

Panic. Fear. Anxiety. Worry. All of these things settled into Ed's chest at once, his stomach seizing up at Kimblee's proclamation. He felt himself nearly stumbling backwards but managed to balance himself before he did so. Kimblee, himself, began to cackle once more, but Mustang seemed to have had enough. In the blink of an eye, he forcefully grabbed Kimblee and slammed him against the chair.

"You're lying!" Mustang seethed, but his words seemed to have no effect on Kimblee. "Damn it, Kimblee! Stop laughing!"

"I have no reason to lie to you, Mustang," assured Kimblee. "Bradley plans to kill Ling Yao."

"What if I believe what you say and it was all just a lie? I get discredited and Bradley goes free," Mustang pointed out. Kimblee shrugged.

"That's just a gamble that you'll have to take," Kimblee told him. "You can choose to believe me or not, but we both know that if you do nothing, Bradley wins either way. You can't have everything, Mustang. Sometimes you have to make the hard choices."

Somehow, at Kimblee's words, Ed was starting to calm down, and from his glance over at Mustang, it looked as though the head detective was starting to do the same. Mustang pulled away from Kimblee but still retained the fierce look on his face.

"Say that I do believe that Bradley is going to kill President Yao, how could he even manage it? Everybody at the gala tonight knows that there's enhanced security. How could Bradley possibly slip through the net?"

"They're all looking for an assassin, not the commissioner of the police!" Kimblee shouted, as if it were obvious. "Not to mention, Bradley's had this planned for months. Apparently things were just made complicated when he shot Claudio."

"You're saying that Bradley shot Prince Claudio, too?" Mustang asked, surprised. Ed, on the other hand, wasn't surprised whatsoever. Greed had told him that Homunculus Corp was behind the assassination of Prince Claudio. At the time, of course, they hadn't yet connected the evil corporation to Commissioner Bradley; once they had, so much happened that the thought of the assassination fell completely by the wayside. However, now that it was rearing its ugly head again, the truth made sense. Ling's life was in danger.

"Mustang," Ed breathed out, grabbing the head detective's attention, "Kimblee's telling the truth."

"Bradley had said you were a smart one, Elric. That was why he put you on suspension," Kimblee revealed. Ed snapped a look at him; a look which clearly made Kimblee laugh with mirth. "Didn't you ever wonder why Bradley suspended you for just a week? Funny how it was just enough time that the gala fell nicely into it."

"What are you trying to say, Kimblee?" Ed demanded of the lunatic.

"I'm saying that Bradley tried his hardest to remove you from the police station. He knew that you were investigating Hughes' death with Mustang," Kimblee explained. "Eventually, the two of you would connect the dots, so he decided to completely remove one of you from the situation. By suspending you for a week, he figured he'd buy himself enough time to succeed tonight. Obviously, he didn't plan for the two of you working off the books."

"So, now it all makes sense," Mustang said, his face drawn into a scowl. "He wanted the investigation to stop long enough to carry out his plans. Tell me, is Bradley pulling the trigger himself, or is he leaving it up to a man like you?"

"People like me are just the clean-up crew," Kimblee answered with a smug smile. "Something like this, Bradley wouldn't leave to chance. He may not be as good a sniper as your pal, Hawkeye, but he's more than capable of pulling the trigger."

More logic entered Ed's brain with those words. Bradley had disappeared during the first gala. While he and Winry had been speaking with the Bradleys, the commissioner had slunk off after someone had come to speak to him. That had no doubt been the cue for the man to do what he had really come there to do: kill Prince Claudio. Mustang speaking again brought Ed out of his thought process.

"So, why are you telling us all this, Kimblee?" he asked angrily. Kimblee quirked an eyebrow.

"I already told you: I want to see who wins. If both sides are armed with the same information, then which side is going to prevail? The bloodthirsty commissioner with an agenda or the pained detective out to avenge his best friend? Which one of the two is truly fit to lead the police force? That's all I care about. After all, I'm going to jail anyway." Suddenly Kimblee leaned forward. Both Breda and Havoc moved to restrain him, but the crazed detective's gunshot wound stopped him from leaning forward too much. "So, Roy Mustang, do you really think it's a good idea to sit around talking to me when Ling Yao gives a speech at 8: 15 and you're still in South City?"

It was like a switch was flipped in all their brains. The peril which they were facing suddenly became real, and the time that they had felt incredibly short. Mustang, naturally, was the first to take charge.

"Breda, stay with Kimblee and bring him over to South PD, I don't care if Archer throws a hissy fit," he ordered. Breda nodded and picked Kimblee up. Kimblee groaned but otherwise said nothing. "The rest of us are heading to Central. Fullmetal rides with me. Havoc, grab Feury and let's go. We have no time to lose."

Havoc dashed from the room right away, Armstrong taking the lead after him. Mustang looked to Ed who nodded back, as if in confirmation. The two chose to not waste a single moment talking and they quickly left after the other two cops. Within moments, Mustang had started his car and peeled away towards the highway.

"Fullmetal, you worked in Central for six months, right?" Mustang asked once they had pulled onto the highway. Ed turned in his seat to look at the head detective.

"Yeah, why?" Ed asked in bewilderment. What did his work in Central have anything to do with now?

"So you'd know the streets and what's where," Mustang said. Ed could see Mustang was trying to confirm something, but he couldn't quite see what. So he just nodded his head. "How close is the Armstrong Estate to the Presidential District where the gala's being held?"

Finally, Ed understood what his companion was going for. "About a twenty minute walk."

"Good." Mustang fished into his pocket and tossed the phone he took from it to Ed. A loud horn sounded as the older man swerved to avoid a car. "Hawkeye's the first on speed dial. Call her and tell her to meet us outside the building where the gala is."

Not bothering to ask why or discuss it, Ed pressed the button and Hawkeye's phone began ringing. After two rings, the female detective picked up. "What do you need, sir?"

"This is Ed," Ed said, but didn't bother to explain anymore of why he was there. "Mustang says to head straight to the gala and wait for us there. We're on our way to Central." Movement on the other end of the line told the forensics specialist that Hawkeye was already mobile. Still, it seemed she had questions.

"What's going on, Ed?' she asked briskly. "Did the plan work?"

"Too well…Bradley's going to assassinate Ling when he gives his speech in a little under an hour. We have to stop it!"

"Then I'll see you all there." Then the line cut off. Ed deposited the cell phone into a cup holder while Mustang looked at him inquisitively.

"She'll be there." Mustang nodded as he further accelerated his car. Suddenly, an unpleasant thought hit Ed. Al and Winry were at the gala. Their lives could potentially be in danger, especially if any remaining operatives of Homunculus were left lurking around. Panicking, Ed dug into the folds of his own jacket for his own phone.

"What's wrong, Fullmetal?" Ed didn't answer, fumbling with his phone as he tried to dial Al's number. After all, Winry wouldn't have her phone on her. "Fullmetal!"

"My family!" he cried exasperatedly, finally managing to call Al's cell. One ring…two rings…"Come on, Al, pick up!" Three rings…Four rings…

"Hi, you've reached Alphonse Elric. I'm not available at the moment, so leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as possible." The beep sounded shortly after.

"Damn it, Al! Answer your cell! Ling's about to be shot!" Deciding that nothing more needed to be said, Ed ended the call.

"Relax, Fullmetal, we'll get there," Mustang assured him. Ed, however, felt like he had temporarily forgotten how to breathe. His family was in danger, and if not his family, then at least someone who was going to become part of his extended family. Now, this case was far too quickly taking an exceedingly personal turn.

"Tell that to me when you have loved ones in danger." He was grateful that Roy had wisely decided not to say anything. Instead, both men chose to look at the clock. It was only a little after 7:30. Breathing heavily, Ed glimpsed a sign that read "Central City: 10 miles".

The nervousness that had plagued them since they started out didn't abate. Almost every mile, Ed found himself dialing Al's number. Every mile, Al didn't answer that call. And every mile, Roy would simply mutter "We'll make it," in response. The tension was frying their nerves. Finally, as the clock turned five to eight, the two men entered the outskirts of Central City. Mustang asked Ed to call the other car; it turned out they were only a few minutes behind them.

The closer they got to the gala, the more congested the traffic became. When they were finally within a few blocks of the gala, the rows of cars and people became so thick they had to stop the car and run. It was 8:05.

"Police! Move!" Mustang yelled, but while some people moved, most of the crowd didn't even bother to turn their heads. "We don't have time for this."

_BANG!_ The shot was fired into the air, and the people backed away instantly. The two men didn't bother to wait for any other reaction. They sprinted forward, tumbling their way through the crowd as the entrance to the gala was in sight.

"Sir!" cried the voice of Hawkeye as they approached her. "I'm sorry, sir, but they won't let me in. I told them it was an emergency-"

"It's fine," Mustang said, cutting her off. "Come on, we have five minutes before that shot is fired. Every second we waste brings Ling closer to death." Ed didn't even bother saying anything. His throat felt dry and his hands felt clammy; any thought he had was catching in his throat. The three moved forward, but Ed glanced behind them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Havoc and the others bringing up the rear. They weren't there.

Steeling himself, Ed turned back around to follow his older companions as they came up to a big hulking man that was guarding the entrance to the gala. Ed's memory twitched. He had seen this man somewhere before, but he couldn't remember.

"What are you doing here?" the man asked, holding up a hand to stop Mustang. The man had spoken extremely slowly and still Ed's memory craved the answer to just where he had seen this man before.

"Amestris Police. We have confirmation of a possible assassin on the premises," Mustang announced authoritatively. "We'll need your help to locate the man."

"There are no…assassins here. That would be…such a pain," the man said with a leering smile. Mustang huffed impatiently.

"I don't have time to deal with this nonsense!" Mustang declared, drawing his gun and pushing past the hulking guard. The guard stumbled a little as Hawkeye made to follow her superior. In this moment, Ed finally figured out where he had seen the man: ten days ago at the previous gala. He had come and spoken to Bradley right before…

"Mustang, wait! He's-" Before the full warning could be spat out, Mr. Indol reached forward with surprising speed and grabbed Hawkeye. Her gun tumbled from her grasp and Indol swiftly grabbed it, forcing it to her head. Mustang stopped in his advancement as Indol shimmied into the building, edging in front of him, his grip still entirely firm on Hawkeye.

"Don't take another step…Detective Mustang," he warned, his voice rumbling. "You're such a pain, detective. If you move, the lady detective dies."

Ed found his fist clenching. They were running out of time. Any minute now, Ling was going to step on that stage to take a bullet. Knowing that they had to make some kind of move, Ed glanced over at Mustang, hoping to see some sort of plan developing on the head detective's face. He didn't. Instead, Mustang's jaw was tight and he looked prepared to kill. Of course, killing would only lead to retaliation in the worst way possible against Riza.

Indol's grin widened even further, if that were possible. "That's right, detective. Now turn around and-"

"Don't worry about me, sir!" Riza yelled, cutting the man off. "You came here for a reason. Don't let me slow you down." Now Ed's gaze was torn between the two of them. Riza looked furious and defiant while Mustang's look had shifted to…calculating?

Another diverted gaze to Hawkeye later, and Ed saw her insistent glare. Her eyes were pointing somewhere, but Ed knew that despite Indol's head possibly being full of bricks, he'd still suspect something if they turned around. In fact, whatever Hawkeye seemed to notice, Indol seemed equally oblivious of, his own gaze fixated on Mustang.

"Fullmetal," Mustang began in an undertone, "if I fired my gun here, do you think I'd cause a panic in the ballroom?"

"It's pretty far down the hallway," Ed answered.

"Yes or no?"

"Well, if it's only those two: no." Mustang smirked at that.

"Good," he responded before raising his voice. "I'm sorry, Riza."

Ed had no time to even think about what Mustang was doing. In seconds, the head detective's gun was up and he fired. It was a good thing the detective was a decent shot. The bullet nicked Riza's shoulder and she grit her teeth momentarily. She hadn't been the target however, and the bullet slammed into the shoulder of the larger man behind her. Indol cried in pain as Riza seemed to use all of her strength to jam her elbow into his chest. Mustang grabbed Ed, not without protest, and pulled him aside as Riza also dove out of the way.

A great cry resounded from behind them and Ed saw Armstrong charging up the steps. For the second time that evening, Armstrong slammed into their enemy and tackled him to the ground. The gun in Indol's hand cascaded across the floor. Mustang let go of Ed and quickly retrieved it, before going to Riza.

"I'm fine, it's just a graze," she assured him with a smile. "We don't have time."

Mustang nodded and left her grasping her shoulder. Instead he approached Indol. "Who are you? What's your code name?"

"Sloth…" the man answered slowly but angrily.

"What are you doing here?" Mustang questioned. Ed found himself getting antsy. Did they really have time to ask these questions?

"Hired as security."

"Homunculus Corp is the extra security they hired for the gala?" Ed asked, completely surprised at the revelation.

"We needed insurance," Sloth answered with another leer. "But most of them don't know the plan."

"Where's Bradley? !" Mustang demanded angrily. Sloth just began to laugh and, in an obvious fit of rage, Roy slammed Sloth's head into the ground. The large man barely seemed fazed by it. "Where the fuck is Bradley? !"

Taking a breath in the midst of his guffawing, he answered with one word, "Roof."

Ed didn't bother standing around a second longer, taking off as soon as the words had left Sloth's mouth. He heard Mustang calling after him but didn't bother stopping. His eyes quickly located the service stairs to the roof, and he dashed straight on to them. By now, there was probably less than a minute left before the shot was fired. They had been idiots to get distracted like this. Other than Kimblee's mistake, Bradley's planning had been impeccable. Of course, Homunculus Corp had been hired on as extra security; that was the only way to ensure that no one would go on the roof. A loud clang below told Ed that Mustang had joined him on the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only thirty seconds, Ed reached the access door to the roof and kicked it open with his automail leg.

Only five seconds were needed to see Bradley positioned at the glass domed ceiling over the ballroom. Ed dug his feet in and rushed toward the commissioner.

"Don't worry, I'm in position," Bradley seemed to be saying as Ed thundered toward him. "Of course it will. That's why I'm doing it."

"BRADLEY!" Ed yelled, drawing a jerk reaction from the commissioner. He ducked as Bradley randomly fired the sniper rifle. Coming out of his crouch he saw Bradley take something out of his ear. In the next second, the older man had smashed that something, and kicked it off the roof.

"Fullmetal, I thought you were at the Southern Dreams Motel," he said angrily. In that instant, Ed saw nothing remaining of the old commissioner. Instead of the kind but hard commissioner, he saw an assassin: cold, calculating and angry. Ed would even go as far to say he was wrath personified. "Well, I can't say I expected you to get past Sloth."

"It's over Bradley," said Mustang calmly. He had finally joined Ed's side, his gun trained directly on Bradley. However, Ed couldn't take his eyes off the far more imposing man. It was dark out now, but he was framed by the light coming from the ballroom. He seemed to have discarded his tuxedo for the moment, having exchanged it for a skin-tight black t-shirt that made him more imposing than ever. On top of that, he continued to hold the sniper gun at the ready, and Ed noticed the distinctive shape of a sword sheath on his back.

Applause rose from below, and Ed supposed that Ling had taken the podium safely. Bradley took advantage of the momentary distraction and threw the sniper rifle at the both of them. Neither saw it coming and the gun slammed into the both of them, knocking them off balance. From the corner of his eye, Ed saw Bradley race toward the only other door on the roof. Wasting no time, he sprung up and Mustang with him. Together, the two went after Bradley.

"Armstrong took Sloth into custody," Mustang informed him as they ran. "Havoc and Feury are handling other security details while they wait for an ambulance. They'll join us when they're finished."

"That could be a while," Ed retorted.

"Doesn't matter. We averted the crisis we were trying to, so now we just have to catch Bradley," Mustang reminded him, but Ed couldn't help but scowl. "Here."

"What the hell? !" Ed exclaimed, taking the gun that Mustang handed him. They quickly stopped by the door, now slightly ajar. Mustang peered in surreptitiously but seemed to see nothing. "I'm not killing Bradley for you."

"It's for protection," Mustang corrected him. "Besides, killing Bradley is my job." Ed saw the ominous dark shadow cross over Mustang's face and his stomach sunk. The man before him truly wanted Bradley's blood, and would stop at nothing to get it. Envy's blood hadn't quite been enough for him. Yet, Ed couldn't quite find the words to stop him. "I'll go in first, so cover me."

Ed nodded, gulping down whatever fear he had of facing Bradley. Mustang kicked the door open and darted in, his weapon held at the ready. Ed followed behind him, his hands clenching the gun uncomfortably. He stopped short as he ran into Mustang's back. Wondering why he had stopped, he peeked around Mustang to a sight that absolutely froze him.

Bradley wasn't running, or hiding; he was simply looking for an appropriate place to fight. The room they were in, dimly lit by the overhead lamps, was more than adequate. It seemed to be some sort of rooftop storage space, with towers of crates and other various knickknacks adorning the room. Just from a cursory glance, Ed noticed a bunch of plastic bottles, a wastepaper basket, a glass vase and what looked to be a metal safe among the room's contents. Standing in the midst of these corridors of forgotten objects was Bradley, his sword drawn. For a brief moment, he wondered why the commissioner even had it before realizing it was likely a lucky charm of sorts to the man.

"You know, Mustang, you've been an upstart since the day you joined the academy," Bradley said coolly, taking a step forward. Both of the younger men took a step back as the door closed behind them. "But I will admit I was impressed with you: apprentice to the legendary Berthold Hawkeye. Even now, I'm impressed you backed me into such a corner.

"Stay calm," Mustang warned Ed in a whisper. _Well, easy for him to say_, Ed thought.

"But a cornered animal is the most dangerous. I learned that watching you try to catch Hughes' killer. Now, however, I'm tired of playing games. I've come this far and I certainly don't mind a few more bodies!"

Bradley rushed forward and Ed tripped backward, the gun tumbling from his hands and towards the door. Mustang didn't fall and Bradley took a powerful slash with his sword. Mustang backpedaled to avoid the attack and tried to aim his gun. Unfortunately, the sixty year old man was far faster than he looked. In a split second, his sword changed direction, batting away Mustang's gun like an irksome fly. The shot misfired as Bradley jammed his knee into Mustang's stomach, knocking him back.

Ed finally got back onto his feet and barreled for Bradley. The commissioner seemed to sense the move, however, as he made another swipe, this time aimed towards Ed. Ed jumped back and planted his right foot, swinging at Bradley with his left. The resultant metal sound indicated that both had blocked each other's blows. Ed's eyes swiveled to behind his foe, where he saw Mustang regaining himself and darting behind one of the crate towers. Realizing that his diversion had worked, Ed's arm whipped out, knocking Bradley's elbow up. Bradley's grip loosened and Ed managed to get free, barely avoiding the sword slash as he raced down the corridor.

As he ran he saw the collection of plastic bottles sitting atop a teetering pile of crates. The brief moment it took him to look was also the moment that Bradley caught up. Ed fell to the ground, sliding over to the stack and kicking it with his left leg. The tower began to tumble as the forensics specialist rolled out of the way, avoiding yet another attack that cleaved the plastic bottles in half. Thankfully, it was Bradley's ill-timed attack that became a boon as the crates began crashing around him.

Ed jumped up and noticed a narrow corridor that led to the side where Mustang lay in wait. Not waiting for Bradley to recover, Ed hastily made his way over to the passage and squeezed himself through, coming face to face with Mustang.

"How long can you distract him for?" Mustang asked, his face one of rigid fury.

"I just got away from him, and now you want me to go back and play with that psycho? !" Somehow saying the word "psycho" reminded him of the time he was hiding from Barry. Only now it was a lucky sword instead of a lucky cleaver. Had that really been just three weeks ago? Ed laughed in his head: same situation, higher stakes.

"I just need one shot! Buy me that one-" Mustang didn't finish the order as the stack of crates between them came blasting outward. Amidst the falling wooden debris stood Bradley, blood dripping from his forehead. To Ed, he looked to be a demon.

Bradley's sword came at them once more, but Ed lifted his leg and blocked the assault with his shin. With a grunt, Ed extended his arm and disengaged himself from the defense. His other leg whipped around and pushed Bradley back with a resounding "oomph!" Ed turned and furiously said to Mustang, "Make it happen!"

Then he entered back into the fray, his elbow jerking into Bradley's jaw as the man tried to recover. Pressing his advantage, Ed aimed another well placed kick that sent Bradley back into the pile of collapsed crates. Bradley seemed to be recovering now, so Ed rushed forward and kicked at him once more. He didn't expect Bradley's move. Instead of defending against the strike with his sword, he caught the blow with his left hand. Ed tried hard to get out of the grip, panic once more setting in. Bradley's sword descended and Ed made a snap decision to block with his right arm, deciding to protect his body. The sharp metal seared across his arm and Ed cried out. Using all the strength in his body, Ed lifted his other leg and kicked himself away from Bradley.

Bradley became winded as Ed struggled to get up. Where was Mustang when he needed him most? Pain raced up Ed's arm and he gritted his teeth. Still he persisted in using both of his arms to help him stand. It wasn't working properly, something was wrong. Blood spurted out in unnatural amounts from his arm as the pain persisted. He didn't have time for this! Bradley was back to his fighting prime, slashing at him wildly; fitting for a cornered animal. Ed managed to block the attacks until Bradley's sword changed direction again.

With tremendous force, he lifted the wastepaper basket that was lying abandoned and flung it at Ed. The object hit Ed, blindsiding him as the older man's sword came back for a round two, once more slashing Ed's right arm with impunity. Ed stumbled and fell to the ground. Bradley advanced on him and Ed crawled backward, the lacerations on his arm burning with every movement. His left hand touched cool metal and Ed recognized it as the gun he had lost. Not wanting to give Bradley any more opportunity, Ed whipped the gun from behind his back and aimed it…only for it to be swiped out of his hand. Bradley's glare in that moment froze him cold as he jammed his sword straight through Ed's arm, withdrawing it just as quickly. Now the pain was too much and tears formed.

"Stay there, Fullmetal," Bradley said coldly. "I'm going to kill Mustang, and then I'll return for you."

Ed tried to lift a hand to stop him, but found that he couldn't. He could feel every bit of pain present in his right arm, but he couldn't even move it. Bradley turned around, his sword dripping with Ed's blood. This was it. They were done. At least, that was what Ed thought until Roy darted out and took a shot at Bradley. The bullet missed as the commissioner went on the attack. In a swift movement, he flung the glass vase towards Mustang with his sword. Mustang recovered quickly and shot at the vase.

The glass broke into large shards that flew outward with immense force. Roy turned away, the glass merely battering his backside. Bradley wasn't as lucky as his close contact to the vase enabled one of the glass shards to hit his face, cutting cleanly across his left eye. He screamed loudly, dropping his sword and clutching his eye as it bled profusely. Mustang hastily approached him, kicking the sword away before kicking the man to the ground. Then, with cold precision, he aimed his gun at Bradley's head. Bradley began to laugh.

"Are you going to shoot me, Mustang?" Bradley asked, his voice laced with chuckles. "Are you going to take your revenge? Are you going to prove to me that you have what it takes?"

Roy's grip tightened, and all Ed could do was stare helplessly. The dark shadow once more passed over Roy's face as he continued to hold his gun on the commissioner. Then, everything became clear. Ed no longer saw Roy holding a gun on Bradley. Instead, he saw himself in the head detective's position, and in Bradley's was Scar. At that moment, Ed understood; if Roy went through with this, everything he had worked toward would be undone. The seconds it would take for that bullet to leave the chamber would be the very same seconds that ruined everything. Roy could not kill Bradley.

"Come on, Mustang, show me you've got the stones for it. Kill me," antagonized Bradley. Ed gritted his teeth through the pain; he had to say _something_.

"Don't you dare do it, Mustang!" he yelled, almost impossibly loud. "Once you do it, there's no going back."

"I'm the one who had your friend killed. Just remember him. Do the dead not demand justice?"

"Do you really think Hughes would have wanted justice like this? Think of what he'd want!" Roy looked to be struggling now, internally debating over the issue. Ed had to speak fast. "Do you think everyone else would want you to do this? Breda? Havoc? _Hawkeye_?"

"I-" Roy stammered out.

"Shooting Bradley isn't justice. It's just cold-blooded murder."

"Murder is necessary sometimes!" Bradley cried, his tone somehow more furious. "You want to be commissioner? Then sometimes sacrifices have to be made. Are we really going to pretend I got my position by avoiding a deal with the devil? !"

"You can't do this!" Ed protested, begging for his words to break through. "Look at your face Mustang! You kill Bradley and you'll always have a face like that: the face of a monster. Do you really think you can be a good commissioner with a face like that?"

"Oh, stop debating, Mustang. KILL ME!"

Roy's hand tightened on the gun and Ed yelled out one last attempt to stop him. "Damn it, Roy! Trust your partner!"

Everything froze. It was only five seconds, but it was enough. Roy seemed to hear his words and turned to look at him. Ed stared at him fiercely, glaring into the lost and broken eyes of Roy Mustang. Then the head detective's eyes changed, becoming clear and focused. He nodded, and lowered the gun. Ed breathed in relief as the man took out his handcuffs.

"King Bradley, you are under arrest for the murder, conspiracy to commit murder and other crimes," he said as he cuffed Bradley. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say, can and will be…"

Ed's head was beginning to swim, drowning out Mustang's words. He barely noticed the door behind him opening. He couldn't even see straight. Damn, his arm hurt. But why couldn't he move it? Soon, he saw Roy's face next to him.

"We got him."

"Yeah…" breathed Ed laboriously. "Next time, try listening to me right away."

"Of course, partner. Now let's get you some med-Hey! Ed! Ed!" Ed could barely register the voice. He was too far gone. The blood loss was overwhelming. He gave a quick smile, and fell unconscious.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Right on schedule. Well, if you can tell, this story will wrap up next chapter. I'll explain a few more things and tie up a few loose ends. Until then, well, I hope you'll wait since I'm done with the chapter, but it still needs to be typed up. In two weeks the story will end so stay tuned. In the meantime, please review and Dare to Be Silly.<strong>


	23. Chapter 23

**This is the last chapter of TO CATCH A KILLER. I worked very hard on this chapter so I hope you enjoy it.**

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><p><span>Chapter 23<span>

"Not a pretty thing, boss," Havoc said, shifting his coffee stick from the left side of his mouth to his right. Roy Mustang ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flitting down to the vast array of doughnuts sitting before the two detectives. It was really quite a dizzying assortment.

"All these doughnuts…someone must have a sick sense of humor," he commented. Havoc snorted at the thought, grabbing a jelly filled doughnut.

"You mean Grumman?" he asked, taking a bite. "I thought it was some sort of 'Great job, Team Mustang' gift."

"If he wanted to get us a gift, he should have gotten us a new coffee machine," Roy said, folding his arms. "I'd like a good espresso without having to pay for it." Havoc didn't answer, munching happily on his donut. Roy scowled, finally giving in and grabbing himself a chocolate éclair.

"Grumman has his hands full, though," Havoc chimed back in. "East PD had three corrupt cops so he has to deal with all that backlash. He's been in Central for two days now."

"Which is the whole reason we've had to come in on a Saturday," grumbled Roy as he sat at his desk. Both of the detectives glanced across to the empty desk near his and the head detective's companion cleared his throat.

"So, when's Hawkeye coming back?" he asked, prompting Roy to lean back.

"Monday, though she'll be sitting desk for the next two weeks per Grumman's orders," the head detective answered. "I guess my shot went a little deeper than I thought…Anyway, the old transfer order was rescinded yesterday."

"Well, at least we'll all be back together," Breda announced as he strode up to them. He slammed a paper down on Roy's desk. "You've made front page again."

"Again? Don't they get anything new?" Roy asked, picking the newspaper up with distaste. Breda's response was a shrug. "Hey, Breda, where are Armstrong and Feury?"

"Grumman called them to Central this morning," Breda responded. "With all the turmoil in the police force, Grumman felt it best to have a bodyguard, and Feury's data mining."

"Well, after the Bradley Era, there's a ton of crap that needs to be cleaned up," Havoc observed. "We put away plenty of corrupt cops during the investigation and that barely scratched the surface."

"The department's certainly in for turbulent times," concurred Roy. "Until we clear away all the stuff the Bradley Era put on us, we can't really move forward. The entire command chain needs to be revisited, and the department will need to vet all of its detectives, and that includes us. Still, I think Grumman will make everything transition smoothly."

"You think the old man will make commissioner?"

"He's up against Gardner and Storch. Assuming they might also have been on the payroll, I think there's no doubt he'll get the job."

"So you'll make Chief then?" Havoc's smile was certainly smug, and Roy returned it.

"Likely. Grumman submitted me for Interim Chief, and I can't see the Board of Reviews shooting it down," Roy told him assuredly. "There's still a lot to do, though, so I'll need you to keep sharp."

"Of course," Havoc guaranteed. He gave a tiny salute before leaving the head detective, presumably to get more doughnuts. Breda followed him. Finally having a moment of peace, Roy stole a glance at the day's paper before scoffing at the headline: BRADLEY CASE DETAILS STILL UNDISCLOSED. MUSTANG REFUSES TO COMMENT. Snorting loudly, Roy pitched the paper into the wastepaper basket.

"They're reporting on the case. Turn it up!" yelled an officer across the bullpen. Roy turned his head to the television set where a reporter was speaking.

"We're standing in front of the East City Police Department, where rumor has it that King Bradley, former commissioner of the Amestris Police, will be arriving shortly," the reporter began. "Four days ago, Bradley was arrested on multiple counts of murder, but the police refuse to release any more details. The president, who named Bradley as commissioner twenty years ago, has been unavailable for comment since her termination of Bradley's employment two days ago.

"We also believe that Bradley has connections to the Homunculus Corporation, a company recently brought into litigation on charges of fraud and illegal arms trading. Various numbers of their executives were arrested recently, including the head of the Security Division, Gregor Indol. Also rumored to have been involved, is the commissioner's sixteen year old son, Selim Bradley, who had been missing since the gala four days ago."

"Yeah, more like ran away, the little bastard," Roy said under his breath. The reporter, however, continued talking.

"Head Detective Roy Mustang of the East PD is still refusing to comment, despite being the arresting officer. We will bring you more news as the case develops," the reporter said to the camera. "In other news, President Ling Yao returns home tomorrow, following the successful signing of the Xing-Aerugo Treaty."

"Detective Mustang, sir?" came a voice to his right and Roy looked at the man calling him.

"Brosh, right? Can I help you?"

"Yes, Officer Ross is currently bringing Bradley to Interrogation Room A for questioning," Brosh informed him and the entire station went quiet. Mustang stood, straightening his shirt as he did so.

"Thank you, officer," he said before walking towards the interrogation room. A slow clap started behind him, eventually rising into a great applause, but Mustang didn't let it affect him. Instead, he continued his walk, giving Officer Ross a quick nod before entering the room.

Seated at the table was Bradley. His usual groomed hair was slightly out of place, but he remained still and poised, even in the midst of the charges brought against him. Across his left eye was an eye patch: the only way he had to salvage the dignity of having lost that eye. In truth, it made the now former commissioner look even more fierce, a certain sense of power emanating from beneath the patch. However, Roy was not rattled in the slightest. Now, Bradley was no more intimidating than he was. King Bradley was no longer a god; he was simply a man with a silly eye patch and steel cuffs around his wrists.

"Detective Mustang-" started the older man next to Bradley. Mustang instantly sought to cut him off.

"Save it, Mr. Edison, this isn't a deposition."

"Nevertheless, you cannot ask my client questions without me present," Edison said, his white hair quivering with every word. "We wouldn't want him to answer leading questions, after all."

"Oh, don't worry, I only have a few questions," Mustang assured the lawyer, taking a seat at the chair opposite Bradley. "Besides, Mr. Bradley knows when he's beat."

"Edison, let the man ask his questions," Bradley interjected. "I believe I owe him that much." Mustang gave a small smile as he flipped open his notepad.

"First off, I need to remind you that this is only an informal interrogation. From here on out, your client will be dealing with District Attorney Henry Douglas. Therefore, any questions you have should be submitted to him."

"We know all this!" Edison cried in exasperation. Mustang clicked his pen and smiled triumphantly.

"I know, but we all want this done right, don't we?" Edison looked positively vilified. "Now then, Mr. Bradley, can you explain your presence on the roof of that building four nights ago."

"I had intended to kill Ling Yao," Bradley stated calmly.

"What was your purpose in doing so?"

"To prevent the signing of the Xing-Aerugo Treaty." Mustang nodded as he took notes on Bradley's answer.

"And what does any of that have to do with Homunculus Corporation?" Bradley seemed to sigh in annoyance at the inquiry.

"Until Internal Affairs Officer Fokker found proof of illicit activities in the company, we provided a variety of services," Bradley answered. "Our intention in preventing the treaty signing was to incite further war between Xing and Aerugo, with Amestris as the battlefield."

"Why did you want to bring war? How would that benefit your corporation?"

"We've been secretly supplying both armies with weapons and medicine for years, but the casualties never mounted high enough to turn a big profit. We decided to incite it further. Give them the weapons to blow each other up, and then the medicine to put them back on their feet and do it all over again."

"So it was all about the money…" Mustang breathed out. "Unbelievable."

"Money and power are everything. Don't you know that, Mustang?"

"Not that you'll have either," Mustang challenged. "Speaking of money, where did the corporation's money come from?"

"Anonymous benefactor fueled by various shell companies; someone who wanted more profit. I don't know any more. Likelihood is that it was some other cop, but you're busy cleaning them all up. Whoever they were, they just provided the funding. I made all the decisions on my own."

"Well, apparently they withdrew their backing. As of this morning, Homunculus Corporation is dissolved."

"Not surprising," Bradley said, his look being one of resignation. "You put most of my executive officers in prison."

"On that note, both Lust and Gluttony have agreed to testify against you. Sloth isn't saying a word, but he's a little slow anyway." Mustang chuckled at his own joke before continuing. "Kimblee, on the other hand, couldn't give a rat's ass about testifying."

"He always was a wild card…" mused Bradley. "That…that was my one mistake."

"It certainly wasn't one we thought you would make, though obviously we had hoped you would," Mustang stated, frowning for the first time in the interrogation.

"I was pressed for time and couldn't afford the distraction. If Elric was going to spill everything, like I knew he could…well, I wasn't going to take the chance. At the very least, I had hoped Kimblee would be a good distraction."

"So…no regrets?" Mustang asked, finally putting his pen down.

"None," Bradley stated boldly. "Is that all?"

"Just one more question, actually." Mustang looked Bradley straight in the eye and asked coldly, "Did you kill Maes Hughes?"

Bradley gave a short, somber chuckle. "I didn't fire the gun, but I did order the trigger pulled. For the sake of simplicity: yes, I did kill Maes Hughes."

"That's all I needed to know," Roy responded with a smile. He stood and began walking toward the door when Bradley suddenly called him back.

"Oh, Mustang," he began, "would you apologize to the Elrics for me?"

"Do you actually regret something after all?"

Bradley smiled at him wryly before answering, "Just an apology for a lapse in good judgment." Mustang considered the request a moment before answering the question.

"I'll see what I can do." Then he left, passing by Officer Ross once more with a, "Book him."

A great cheer rose up once again from within the confines of the station as Mustang strode back through its halls. The sounds died down as Mustang reached his desk. Havoc and Breda approached him as he sat, both now holding plates of doughnuts. Holding back a laugh, Roy took out his key ring and unlocked the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a thick file folder. Emblazoned across the top were the words "Maes Hughes". Roy swiveled around and handed Havoc the file folder.

"Hey, Jean, mind filing this under 'Closed' for me?" he asked and Havoc's face lit up with a grin.

"You got it, chief," Havoc answered delightedly. Roy stood, grabbing his coat.

"Hold down the fort here. I have to go see a friend," Roy informed them, walking toward the exit from the station. Before he reached the exit from the bullpen, he heard Havoc yell out to him.

"Hey, give him our regards! We'll see you at the meeting place!" Roy gave him a lazy hand wave as acknowledgement.

Moments later, he pushed open the double doors of the station. The rare East City sun streamed into his face, and the head detective breathed in the fresh air. At least, he did until the clicks and flashes told him that reporters were buzzing around him. Some officers held them back, allowing Roy to escape the clutches of the press for yet another day. After that, it took only a few more minutes for him to reach his destination.

The cemetery was quiet, despite being in the middle of the city. The trees that enclosed it whispered softly, highlighting Roy's footsteps across the grass. Walking only a few rows down, Roy finally stood before Hughes' grave. In those seconds, he did nothing but stand there, and it felt as though Hughes was still standing right there with him, almost as if the trees were encapsulating them. Roy chuckled. How unnaturally sentimental of him. He took a deep breath with the wind, placing a hand on the cold gravestone.

"So…this is what closure feels like," he whispered. "We got him, Maes. It's done…Sorry for taking so long. I'm sure you'll forgive me." The trees almost seemed to nod as response. "Havoc and the others send you their regards. Anyway, I'll come visit you when I have the chance."

As Roy left, he could have felt that if he turned around he would have seen Hughes smiling and waving at him. But Roy didn't turn around. Not once. He didn't need to. Instead, he got back into his car and drove away, heading deeper into the city. The drive was short, and he quickly pulled up in front of the Hughes' residence. He bounded up the steps and knocked eagerly on the door. Scrabbling was heard from inside before Gracia opened the door.

"We got him," he told her, and she burst into tears. Gracia slipped away from the door, allowing Roy inside the house. The two retreated to the living room, both of them sitting quietly on the couch. Tears continued streaming down Gracia's cheeks.

"I…I never thought this day would come," she said, punctuating the end with a hiccup. "Thank you, Roy."

"No, I should thank you," he stated sincerely. "You never gave up. I think it kept me going."

"I just did what I had to…" she wrote off quietly. "At least, now Maes will be able to rest in peace, I think."

"Maes, rest? He never stopped running his mouth for a minute," Roy joked. She laughed.

"You know you loved that about him," she shot back.

"_Everyone_ loved that about him. Heck, if there was one thing people could say about him, it's that he was loved. Still, I'm pretty sure he'll be happy." Gracia smiled, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt. "How do you feel?"

"Happy. Angry. Relieved. Fulfilled. I can't…quite describe what I'm feeling," she answered honestly. "The grief's still there, but at least I know it wasn't all for nothing."

"Yeah…" The two continued to sit in silence, a clock ticking somewhere in the house. "Where's Elicia?"

"Over at Tabitha's house," Gracia said. "She's too young to be sitting around the house."

"Are you going to tell her?" Roy asked.

"Someday, when she's old enough to understand," Gracia replied. "What are you going to do now?"

"My job, only with no baggage attached." Roy smiled at her, leaning back on the couch. "But, you know, I wouldn't mind coming around for dinner once in a while."

"As long as you bring Riza."

"So, you're trying to usurp his position as resident matchmaker, too?"

"We just wanted you to be happy," she reminded him. Roy continued to smile at the thought.

"I might take you up on that offer," Roy conceded. "In fact, maybe, if it's not too much, I'll bring the Elrics along. Winry's a mean cook. I'm sure she could learn plenty from you."

"I think I'd like that."

"It's a date, then." Once again, Roy stood, but Gracia stood with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Roy, did you lose your life going after his death?" she asked.

"No. I think I found it," he answered truthfully.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to know that." With that, the two bid their farewells. Roy left the house and once more entered his car. Now, there was only one stop left. Putting his car in drive, he started off towards Resembool.

Everything was done now. All of his dues were paid. Part of him knew that Hughes' death would always be there in the corner of his heart, but now he could sleep at night, knowing that his best friend had been avenged. It wouldn't have been possible without Ed, he knew that for sure. If he had never come in contact with the genius forensics specialist, the case would probably still be open. Well, that and Ling Yao would likely be dead. Unfortunately, even with this victory resounding through his head, he couldn't help but remember the words that Bradley had screamed at him. Sacrifices had to be made.

In his heart of hearts, Roy knew this to be true. Hughes' death was the first in a long line of sacrifices to put Bradley and his men behind bars. Truthfully, Roy was glad that in the end he could answer Gracia's question the way he did. Had it not been for Ed's words, he may have sacrificed himself on the road to vengeance. No, instead, Ed was the one to pay that sacrifice. Nothing could make up for that; no words, actions, or petty gifts. He just had to live his life everyday, grateful for the chance to lament that sacrifice. That was his final thought as he pulled up to the Elric residence. Both Breda and Havoc's cars were already here, and the door was ajar.

"Hey, kid, how you doing?" resounded Havoc's voice from the living room, before a loud slap followed. "Holy crap, that hurt!"

"I didn't just go through surgery on my arm after getting all its muscles slashed just for you to slap it to pieces, Havoc!" That was undeniably Ed's voice, growing sharper as Roy sprung into the house.

"What the hell is your arm made of? Steel?"

"It's _automail_!" Ed seethed. "Of course it's made of steel, dumbass!"

"Leave the big guy alone, Hav," chastised Breda. Winry blew past Roy, hardly noticing he was there, as she carried a large bowl of water into the room.

"Please don't agitate the ports, they're still sensitive at this stage," she remonstrated the men in the room.

"Yeah, guys, my automail just got attached today. I've already been through hell these last few days."

"Shut up, Ed. Don't insult my automail!" Winry snapped. Ed was going to retort as Roy started laughing. Seeing the head detective seemed to make Ed scowl, but even that was precluded by Al's arrival.

"Food's ready!"

"Yay! Food!" cried a voice from the kitchen and Ling suddenly burst forth into the hallway, followed by his wife. A sharply aimed kick stopped the president of Xing in his tracks, however, and Mei emerged from behind Al.

"Not for you!" she scolded, causing Ling's eyes to water. "You and Lan Fan have been poaching food since you got here!"

"But attempted assassinations make me hungry…" Ling whined in response. Clearly Ling had been told about the events of that night.

"Anything makes you hungry, fatass moocher," insulted Ed as he came out of the living room. His new steel prosthetic was visible at the moment, clanking painfully with every movement.

"Don't talk like that, brother!"

"Not yet!" Ed said, banging him over the head with his good arm. "How're you doing, Mustang?"

"Amused," he answered. Ling seemed to register the name and wheeled around to face the head detective.

"Roy Mustang, I am greatly in your debt." Ling punctuated his gratuity with a bow.

"Thanks, but that was mostly short stuff over here."

"You wanna be the next target for my new arm?" Ed threatened. Roy started laughing again as Al cut in.

"Let's just go to the backyard, before you all kill each other." Heeding the younger brother's advice, everyone in the house followed him out to the backyard. A large spread of food was before them, clearly the result of many hours of cooking. Stretched above the table were two banners that said "CONGRATULATIONS!" and "COME BACK SOON, AL!"

"You're going away?" Roy asked as he went to grab a drink.

"Just for a week," Al answered him, grabbing his soda can from the table. "Mei's coming-of-age ceremony is this week, so I'm heading off with the Yaos to celebrate. Then it's back home to prepare from my dissertation presentation and plan for my wedding. Which reminds me, I should put your name on the invite list."

"Oh, I couldn't impose-"

"Nonsense!" called Ed, who sidled next to him with a smug grin. "Didn't Winry tell you? You're practically family now and you're coming to that wedding."

"Fine. I can see when I'm being forced," Roy sighed in defeat.

"Damn straight," Ed responded, clinking his glass against the detective's. "So, after all that, how's it feel?"

Roy deliberated for a moment before answering, "Like I'm whole again."

"Case closed, then?" Roy nodded. "Good, I don't think I could take any more of working with you. I got off easy with my arm this time, so I'm not exactly keen on a next time, you know? In other words, I'm taking a backseat from now on."

"Suits me just fine," Winry said, joining them around the table. "I think I'll appreciate having my husband back. You'll allow a pregnant woman that, right?"

"Please, you just want to tinker with my automail."

"Guilty as charged." Roy snorted, his drink spraying out. Winry handed him napkins without a word.

"Speaking of automail, Bradley wanted to apologize."

"Yeah…should have done that before he cut my arm to pieces," Ed complained with a scowl.

"Anyway, it's probably best you take a backseat. The department's in for some rough political changes," Roy informed Ed, who shrugged with some effort.

"Yeah, Feury was telling me when he called this morning. Interim Chief, huh?" Ed mused, sipping on his drink. "You were right about Grumman wanting Commissioner, so…hope you lead our department to new heights, partner."

"Still calling me that?"

"Just because we solved one case does not mean out partnership is dissolved. Besides, we still have a debt to settle, and who knows when I'm going to cash in."

"When the hell did this happen?" Roy asked, absolutely nonplussed.

"I told you that night of the first gala: I help you, you owe me a favor." The head detective didn't say anything, preferring to leave Ed to his own delusions. "Hey, Mustang, I've been meaning to ask. What stopped you that night? I wasn't exactly getting through to you, so what happened?"

"Simply put," Roy started, himself leaning back against the table, "I thought I saw a bit of Hughes in you that night, and it helped remind me that he wouldn't want me to do this." Ed made a small, noncommittal noise as they continued to stare towards the house.

"Hawkeye!" Havoc called as Riza stepped out from the house. Her left arm was in a sling, but Roy recognized her as the same beautiful woman he had always known. Winry approached her and the two women began to talk. Seeing the two converse like old friends immediately reminded Roy of something.

"Gracia said she'd like to have you and Winry over for dinner sometime," he told Ed.

"Winry would love that."

"You have a great wife, Fullmetal," Roy told him. Ed nodded in agreement.

"You should get one."

"Someday, when Rebecca gets that anti-fraternization rule repealed." Riza came closer to Roy's sight as she broke away from Winry.

"Edward, how's your arm?" she asked. Roy quickly turned around to grab her a drink and plate of victuals.

"Rehabilitating," he responded. "Yours?"

"Would be better if Roy was good at shooting," she told him. Roy scowled as he handed her the food.

"No one's as good as you. You should know that."

"Thank you for the compliment, sir." Suddenly, Breda's phone rang across the backyard. A minute later he called for them.

"We gotta run, boss. They found a body at an apartment in Liore," he said. Roy sighed.

"Never a day off," he complained. "Well, time to go back to work. You up for it, Riza?"

"Of course, sir," she answered him professionally. "I'm not one to let something like a gunshot wound slow me down. And I'm not desk sitting when I get back on Monday, either."

"All right, all right, I'm not arguing," he conceded. "How about you, Fullmetal?"

"I'll pass. My arm still hurts like a bitch and I want to take full advantage of my paid medical leave." He then popped a cookie in his mouth, as if challenging Mustang. "Don't you worry, I'll be back to work in a few weeks. I'll solve your cases for you then. Until that time, you'll just have to cope."

"Whatever, tiny." Ed tossed his drink at him as both the head detective and his reinstated partner made a swift retreat. Roy looked to the canopy of blue sky above him and inhaled deeply. "It's a beautiful and bright day today, isn't it, Riza?"

Riza looked at him askance before smiling softly. "Yes, sir. Yes, it is."

As the two stepped into the house, Roy looked back to Ed who was currently strangling Ling while avoiding an assault from both Lan Fan and Winry. He chuckled and then said something under his breath. And though no one but himself was near enough to hear, he was certain his message had been received.

"Thank you, Edward. I think the rain has finally stopped."

_Fín_

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><p><strong>Author's Note: There it is: the ending of TO CATCH A KILLER. After 23 months, 270 hand-written pages, 217 typed pages and almost 140,000 words, this story is complete. So, how was it? Did the ending meet your expectations? Did the story meet your expectations? More importantly, how were my characterizations and plot? I'd love to know all of that from you in a review. On a slightly different note, the results of poll are up and closed. Many of you said you'd want to see how the story ended before deciding if you wanted a sequel or not. Well, now that it's over, would you want one? Tell me that in a review, too. But before you do, read the summary of what the second one would be below. Note, this doesn't mean I'll write it, but it's the plan for it.<strong>

**TO FIND A KILLER**

**AU. Seven months after TO CATCH A KILLER. The biggest trial of the year, the repeal of the anti-fraternization rule, a series of bombings, and a rash of mysterious murders make for a volatile mix when a killer appears with a deadly game and the promise to kill again…starting with Edward Elric.**

**So, again, let me know in a review. I must express my gratitude for everyone who ever reviewed this story (especially those select few that reviewed almost every chapter), as well as favorited and followed. I hope I met your expectations. This has been my most successful story to date, and I hope that should I return with a sequel, you'll all be right there with me. In the meantime, I must for the last time ask you to review, and, as always,**

**Dare to Be Silly,**

**Epicocity**


	24. Preview of TO FIND A KILLER

**I received advice that I should inform all of you, my loyal readers of TO CATCH A KILLER, that the sequel is now officially up. Actually it's been up for three months. So, if you're totally interested, please go and check it out and leave a helpful review. If you're still on the fence about it then check out the preview below.**

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><p>"Stop right there, Martins!"<p>

Roy Mustang's shoes hit the pavement in a hurried cadence. A short distance away he saw his target attempting to escape from his reach by grabbing onto a chain link fence. The metal was wet from a previous day's rain causing the man to slide off it and onto the ground. Mustang's coat flapped out behind him as he continued to gain on the fleeing criminal. Wind whipped past him, tousling his jet black hair, and in his hands was his gun, though it wasn't aimed at anything.

Martins, the man who was being chased, finally managed to recover from his tumble. He clambered up as Mustang finally reached him. The pursuing man grabbed the criminal and tossed him against the same fence he had tried to use earlier. Unfortunately, like his quarry, Mustang forgot about the puddles on the ground and his feet slipped. Martins took advantage of the momentary distraction and pushed Mustang away before proceeding to make a beeline for the nearby alleyway.

"Damn rain…" Mustang growled, pushing himself to his feet. Luckily, his gun hadn't fallen out of his hands. It took less than a second for him to see the object of his chase running down the alleyway. With a grunt, Mustang set off into the narrow alley.

The small space warranted a far more cautionary approach from the cop, but his target didn't need to take such caution into consideration. Soon enough, he had broken into a larger back street. Once he had, Mustang picked up his speed, breaking into the back street himself. Then he saw Martins heading for the main road, a cackle on his lips. Mustang scowled; if Martins did manage to make it into the densely populated main road, his odds of catching the man would become severely low. So, he pumped his legs and pushed them harder in an attempt to catch up.

Martins looked back as he reached the corner to freedom, giving Mustang a wide smirk. It was a fatal mistake.

Roy didn't even need to look to know what had just happened to the man. Whereas one second before he had been running, his single moment to look back resulted in him flipping over and lying on his back. Stretched out before him was a metal arm. Mustang rolled his eyes as he reached Martins and placed a foot on his back, forcing him down.

"You're lucky I was there," commented the owner of the metal arm, finally stepping into view. Mustang scowled at the appearance of Edward Elric; from his braided blonde hair, to his bright red jacket, and most recently to his automail arm. "You're slipping."

"And it's nice to see you're as annoying as ever, Fullmetal," Mustang commented. Martins started to groan, but Roy gave him a swift, "Shut up."

"Hey, I wouldn't have let the guy get this far," Ed commented, using his left arm to take a drink of coffee. Roy snorted.

"Yeah, I know, because you would have easily fit through that alleyway. You _are_ that small after all." Ed snapped a furious look to Mustang, causing the older man to laugh.

"Whatever, Detective Dipstick," jeered the younger forensics specialist.

"That's Chief, now," Roy corrected him with a smirk. It was Ed's turn to roll his eyes.

"Then I can start calling you _Interim_ Chief Clueless." The smirk dropped off his face, easily replaced with a scowl.

"Very funny. Don't forget I'm your boss," Mustang remarked. Ed shrugged nonchalantly.

"If we're playing that game, then let's not forget you owe me." If the sight of Ed's automail arm wasn't enough of a reminder, then the young man's words certainly were.

Ed, of course, was referring to the day he had lost his right arm seven months ago. Normally, Roy would have simply considered the loss of limb as a hazard of the job. This time it was more than that. Part of the reason was that, technically, as a forensics specialist, Ed shouldn't have even been in that kind of danger. But the real truth of the matter was that it had been his own personal lust for vengeance that had caused Ed's limb removal. Edward Elric had given Roy a sense of closure. He had helped him solve the murder of his best friend, Maes Hughes by giving that arm. That was why he owed the young man.

"What? Are you cashing in now?" Mustang asked. The question caused Ed to scoff.

"Not likely." Ed lifted his other arm again, thankfully still flesh and blood, and took another sip from the coffee that was in his hand. Beneath him, Martins was groaning and starting to get up.

"I don't think so, Martins," the chief warned, stomping his foot upon the man's lower right leg. Martins screamed in frustration while attempting to wriggle out of the situation. It hardly did him any good.

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><p><strong>Well, there you have it. Hopefully this has enticed you and I hope I'll see each of my old readers and reviewers giving a favorite, a follow and a review.<strong>


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